Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

“Not on your life, sis,” he burst out. “You can quit if you want, but not me. I’m going to find her if she’s thirty-five by the time I do.”

“But we don’t even know for certain that she’s being held against her will. Yves Bouscaral thinks she’s highly promiscuous and given to mad crushes. Granted, he could be saying that to protect his older brother. But if she is by chance with Henri, it may be through her own choice, because she’s enamored of him-an older man and all that.”

“You haven’t seen her in the flesh,” he said. “Well, I did, and she was frightened and seeking help. I didn’t imagine that. That was real.”

Honey reflected for a moment, realizing she was treading on very thin ice; when Dirk got worked up about something, hell or high water wouldn’t persuade him otherwise. She reached across and gently took his hand. “Dirk, you are a dear and generous man to take up her cause. Even as a kid, you were always for the underdog. But face it, we’re licked. Where could we possibly look next? Henri Bouscaral has unlimited funds and could be anywhere in the world.”

“ We have unlimited funds, thanks to Wildon Enterprises,” he replied forcefully. “And by God, I’ll spend every last cent of my share to find her.”

“I have no doubt you will,” she said, and fished her winning ticket stub out of her purse. “Be a pet and go cash these in. We may need the bread by the time we’ve located her.”

An infectious smile broke out on Dirk’s boyish face. Impulsively he leapt up and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks, Honey. You’re the very best.”

“Well, at some things, yes…” She laughed with him and watched him lope away toward the betting windows. At that moment her love for him swept over her with such force that she felt tears welling.

No one in the world meant more to her than her baby brother. She had seen him through many a crisis, and vice versa, but nothing had seemed so important to him as this latest obsession. Even his physical appearance had changed drastically; he was gaunt and paler, a tense nervousness had invaded his gray-blue eyes, and he seemed to have lost his sense of humor, becoming short-tempered and testy. Those changes underscored how seriously he was taking this mission. It pained her to see him in such a state, and she vowed to herself right then that regardless of how futile his quest seemed, she would help him to the bitter end. After all, he was her only family, and one thing she had learned over the years: blood was thicker than any other bond. At least to the surviving Wildon clan.

She dabbed at her eyes with a Flemish lace handkerchief that had belonged to her mother, and was returning her attention to the racing form when suddenly Dirk reappeared, running toward her with an alarmingly white face. “She’s here!” he croaked breathlessly, and tugged on her arm. “She’s here, Honey! In one of the boxes. Down there. Come look!”

“Kolina?”

“Yes, for God’s sake, who else? I walked right by her and almost didn’t see her. Can you believe our luck? It’s holding true, huh? Come on, take a look before she disappears again!”

Honey popped to her feet, hurrying with him to the terrace railing. “Is Bouscaral with her?”

“I didn’t see him, but the same two thugs are. The ones from Central Park,” he said in a rush, and pointed. “Down there, third box from the center aisle. See? That incredible blonde. That’s her. That’s Kolina Svensen or I’m a complete jackass. Here, take a good look at her through the glasses.” He whipped the binoculars from around his neck and thrust them into her hands. “What should we do? We can’t let her get away again.”

“Cool it, will you? And stop jostling me, I can’t focus.” She slowly adjusted the lenses, bringing into sharp detail the breathtaking face of Kolina. Dirk’s imagination had not played tricks on him; this was the girl from his photos and one of the loveliest, most enchanting presences Honey had ever laid eyes on. Kolina possessed an irresistibly beautiful face, huge innocent blue eyes, a complexion of pure peaches and cream, a graceful jawline, and a pert, saucy nose. Her hair was the color of white beach sand, and what little of her figure Honey could see was surprisingly voluptuous for a girl barely sixteen. “No wonder you’re ga-ga over her,” Honey murmured, still observing Kolina under the magnifying lenses. “She is spectacular.”

“I told you, I told you, didn’t I? She is pure magic,” Dirk rambled on, beside himself with exhilaration. “I can’t believe our luck, Honey. Of all the places in all the world…”

She said as she lowered the glasses, “Now the question is, what the hell do we do about it? We can’t just barge down there and kidnap her.”

“Why not? That’s what that damned Bouscaral did.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Honey said with sisterly caution. “He’s an extremely powerful and wealthy man. We don’t want to take any chances.”

“Well, think of something!”

“I’m trying to,” she replied, and marched back to their table to down the rest of her drink. The sight of the two bodyguards on either side of the blonde had given Honey pause; no telling if they were armed. They certainly looked like the kind who would be-all gristle and sweat. Probably loyal to boot, and dumb as hell. Swiftly she examined the options as Dirk remained at the railing, his eyes glued on his beloved Kolina. Even his posture indicated the extent of his ardor; he was bending over the railing like a wet noodle. Honey promptly formulated an idea and returned by his side. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

Moments later, the brother-sister team put into action her daring plan. With Dirk watching from a distance, Honey sidled into the empty box next to Kolina and her guards. She sat next to the iron-pipe railing separating the two boxes and made certain the two thugs caught not only her eyes, but an eyeful of her figure. She was wearing a fetching afternoon dress by Halston, a simple clinging sheath of emerald jersey, cut low in front, exposing a healthy swell of snowy bosom. Her deep red hair was swept up under a wide-brimmed straw hat, and square-lensed dark glasses covered half her face. After tossing them a disarming smile, she pretended to be absorbed in her racing form, and then looked over to the guard sitting just on the other side of the metal railing. “Excuse me,” she purred in halting French, “but I need some help. Would you be so kind?”

He indicated that he would be more than happy to oblige, and she leaned across the railing into him, pointing to the confusing statistics in her racing form. Heads bent together as much as her wide-brimmed hat would allow, they computed the chances for her chosen horse to place in the next race. The other guard, on the far side of a bored-looking Kolina, was watching them with obvious jealousy. Honey flashed him a come-hither smile, and he bounced abruptly over to them, kneeling down between them to offer his expert advice. Honey plied her considerable charms on them, brushing a full breast into one, touching the other’s knee with an intimate but innocent gesture. She kept bending forward over her racing form, her breasts spilling out of her tight dress like fresh cream. The two thugs, whose accents told her they were from Marseilles, were so taken by her that she moved into the next phase of her plan.

Urging them to come with her to place the bet on their mutually chosen horse, Honey managed to get them out of their box. Unfortunately they brought Kolina with them. As Honey walked in front of them, she spotted Dirk, his face hidden in a newspaper. A few steps farther on she glanced casually over her shoulder and spotted him following several paces behind. Upstairs, just before the lines winding out from the betting windows, she approached the first-aid room. With a sudden swoop she latched on to the nearest guard and, giggling suggestively, dragged him into the room. Fortunately it was empty. The startled man put up little resistance, and even less as she pressed him against the wall, rubbing her heavy breasts into him and reaching for his basket of goodies. Before he could blink, she had his dick out in her hands and had sunk to her knees, placing it in her mouth like a babe at its mother’s tit.