Patricia Rosemoor: Skin

This was for Hannah and Carmen.

To give them more time.

Her attention was only marginally on the enthusiastic customers around the stage as, all the while, she scanned the room for a killer. As if she could somehow identify him from his rapt interest in her.

Having a drink with a customer at his table in front of the deejay’s booth, Caresse sat stiff, her expression disapproving. Behind her, Rudy Barnes shook his head as he watched, arms crossed over his chest. On the other side of the room, Paul Ensdorf looked both seduced and aggrieved as he did when his sister Melinda danced. As usual, Michael sat at a table near the wall. She couldn’t begin to read him. Or Gabe, who’d stepped away from the bar to watch.

Still dressed in the corset and g-string, Lilith picked up the skirt from the stage floor with numb fingers and tossed it over her shoulder just as the music ended. A discontented rumbling set through the room.

“More!”

“Take it off!”

The killer had only told her to dance for him, not to strip for him.

“Hey, where’s the flesh?”

Ignoring the demands and questions, Lilith took her time strolling off the stage as Melinda came on.

“Not bad for a first dance,” Melinda whispered, then went into her act.

Lilith prayed that it had been enough to save her sister and Carmen until she could find them.

AN HOUR LATER, Lilith wondered what she was doing back at Michael’s place. After she’d put herself out like that, nothing. To her disappointment, she wasn’t any closer to knowing the identity of the killer than she had been when the evening started.

She’d changed back into her waitress costume and had gone back on the floor. And nothing. Paul wasn’t even speaking to her. Rudy had gone back in his booth. Gabe had suggested she was going to get herself killed. And when she asked Michael how he’d liked it, he’d said, “What I would like is to hear what this Lilith has to say.”

And so, deflated, she’d left the club halfway through the night, and here she was, sitting in front of Michael’s camera once more.

The red light glowed, telling her he was recording.

“Let’s go back to your stepfather. The cruelty you suffered at his hands — how has that affected the way you see the world?”

Surprised that he hadn’t jumped right into the fact that she’d gotten on stage tonight, Lilith said, “You mean the way I see men? I don’t hate men, if that’s what you’re getting at. Not all men, anyway. Only the ones who have to prove their strength by beating up on the weak. Women. Kids.”

“What would you like to do about it?”

Lilith looked away from the camera. Elena had basically asked her the same thing. She still didn’t know how to answer that. Part of her hungered for vigilante action, but most of her just wanted to see justice done.

When she didn’t answer, Michael surprised her by stopping the recording. The red light went off, and he stepped out of the shadows.

“Wouldn’t you like to get even with the bullies of the world?” Michael asked.

Not wanting to answer, to put into words some of the things she’d been imagining, Lilith realized this was a mistake. She should have stayed at the club, played out her hand. Maybe late at night, when she exited the stage door, he would be waiting to challenge her. The killer.

“Coming here tonight was a mistake. I’m going back to the club.”

As she moved toward the door, Michael stopped her from behind, his hands firm but not cruel on her shoulders. “You always avoid the tough ones, Lilith. Tell me what you really want from this charade.”

Lilith didn’t want to think about it.

It was all she thought about.

“All right. Whoever has my sister and Carmen — I want to be the one to punish him!”

“Carmen? I don’t remember that name.”

“She’s just a kid. A high school girl I was mentoring. He took her to control me. He took her when I was here… with you.”

“My God, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her middle, pulled her to him, her back to his front, nestled his head against hers and murmured in her ear. “It’s not your fault.”

Suddenly she realized he hadn’t questioned her about her sister. Of course he must have assumed she was related to Hannah.

The killer had.

“Are you sure you don’t want to punish all men?” he asked. “Me?”

“No!”

“I might be willing to let you.”

She knew he was teasing now. Some of the intensity drained out of her, and she leaned back into him. “You don’t know what you’d be in for.”

“Maybe I don’t care. Maybe making up for the men who’ve hurt you and disappointed you would be worth the risk. Hasn’t any man ever been willing to do that for you before?”

While she dated occasionally, it was for the sex, nothing long-term.

“I don’t do relationships.” Her tension escalated again, making it difficult to breathe normally.

Michael switched ears, sensually brushing his face against her hair in the process. “Because you’ve never let yourself trust any man before. You can trust me, Lilith.”

“I thought last time you told me not to trust you.”

“That was before you knew me.”

“I don’t know you now.”

“You could if you wanted to. Do you want to? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

He straightened, urged her shoulders back against him. Massaged her neck. She closed her eyes. Allowed his hands to seduce the tension from her.

His hands explored more of her.

Her breathing grew heavier. She didn’t object when he unzipped the back of her dress. Slipped it down over her shoulders. Kissed the side of her neck. Turned her face toward him so he could take her mouth.

His hands moved lower, slid her dress up over her thighs. Disappeared under her skirt. Jerked and pulled.

Tossed what was left of her satin panties.

Unable to resist, she turned in his arms and sought his belt and zipper.

His trousers fell. He wasn’t wearing boxers or briefs. Holding his naked hips, she pressed him back and down onto a stool, following. Lifted her skirts. Straddled him.

The kiss broke with a double moan as they made the connection.

He pulled her tight.

She wrapped her legs around his back.

They rocked together.

Hot and fast sex. Exactly what she needed.

Mindless. Exquisite. Torture.

She draped herself back, over his arm, giving him access to her breasts. He suckled her nipples through the material of her dress, made her cry out with need. Then they cried out together, and, mind vaulting into the void, she dangled backward, back arched, completely open and vulnerable.

Even as she came up out of the abyss, she whispered, “How long can you keep this up?” Every nerve in her body alive with pleasure.

“All night if I have to. First I could use a shower.” He backed off, holding her hand. “C’mon. Shower with me. I can think of places to soap up that you’d like.”

But the sex haze was winding down, and reality stood between them. She might be a little in lust with him, but he was simply a distraction. A stress reliever.

“I’m shy. Go ahead. Maybe after you.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes. You’re not going to leave, are you?” Michael grinned at her as he backed away and headed for the bathroom. “Because I’m going to be really bummed if you leave now.”

No promises. “Take your shower.”

He disappeared into the bathroom. She stared at his equipment. Surely she could figure out how to use it.

Though she could hear the water turn on, she yelled, “Hey, where’s the recording from last time?”

No answer. Obviously, Michael couldn’t hear her over the running water. She took a better look at the equipment. He was using some kind of portable recorder/monitor that used memory cards. She popped out the one in the recorder and found the box holding others. They were in alphabetical order but she didn’t see one marked ‘Lilith.’