"Please, Lacey, you've got to help me." The words spluttered out, a flood of misery dripped from them.
"For fucks sake, Tracey, is he right in the head or what?" Lacey's frustration rolled down the line, now was so not the time to call.
Again came a long sniff filled with worry and regret. "If he gets caught you know he'll go down this time."
The seconds ticked by. A rush of heavy breathing broke through the silence. "What time did he leave?" asked Lacey in defeat. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation whilst being shafted from behind. She was only helping because if she didn't it would be another black mark against her.
"About ten minutes ago. I knew you wouldn't let me down. I'll meet you there?" A question edged her words.
"Okay, I'm on my way. Well I soon will be in about two minutes." Clicking her mobile off she shifted slightly. A shiver sprung over her skin as lips skated across her throat. "Can you put a move on; I've got to be somewhere."
Her partner paused mid thrust. "What did you say?"
"I said hurry up or I'll finish off myself." Her clit screamed for release whilst her thoughts fixated on the twat of a brother Tracy had the misfortune to have.
One that just happened to be her client.
Ryan frowned his disbelief clear. "You're spinning me a piss off line?" His hands snatched around her small hips and he continued to thunder into her.
"Yea guess you could say that, so do you mind finishing?" Lacey glanced at her watch, wishing he would hurry up God but he was a crap rub. She'd only given in because he'd hounded her for the last month. Now she wished she hadn't bothered. Dragging in a deep sigh she listened to his grunt as he came. Too late Lacey decided she would have to deal with her orgasm herself.
Once she had caught hold of bloody Jon.
Ryan shot her a backward glare, anger and confusion rife on his face as she pushed him out of the room. He was still tucking his shirt in, his shoes in his hand.
Lacey didn't know how she could make it any clearer that she wasn't one of those women that liked to relax after sex? "See you," she called slamming the door shut behind him.
Lacey chewed on her lip, the last thing she needed was the little shit Jon getting into trouble. Mainly because it wouldn't look good on her. Christ, so far she held the record for achieving one hundred per cent success. A grimace scrawled over her face. Yeah if each one of her little monsters returning to crime was considered success. Plus she was on her last warning.
Lacey checked outside with a scowl on her face. It was dark, and a rough wind appeared to be picking up, also there was still an aching clit to placate. She quickly pulled on a pair of scruffy jeans and a cotton shirt. A large baggy one that dwarfed her small frame. Grabbing her keys, she tugged at the bobble hat covering her cropped blonde hair and yanked it down. Lacey whirled through the door and jogged towards her car. The sooner she got to the little bastard, the sooner she'd receive satisfaction of a different kind.
Parking up in the narrow street, Lacey glanced around. She knew he would be lurking in the shadows. Somewhere. One thing about Jon he was predictable. Even going back and robbing the same shop as before. Another thought entered her head, thick and stupid was also an apt description.
She checked her mirror, adjusting her hat, and tucked the errant strands underneath. Stepping out onto the pavement Lacey rested her hands on slim hips, and glanced around. A shiver snuck over her, and she debated snatching a coat to repel the chilled wind. Shit he knew how to piss her off. Dipping a hand between her thighs, she wondered if she could get away with a quick session. She felt so horny a few minutes would do.
In the distance raised voices echoed through the chilled stillness of the night followed by the sound of running. A sharp staccato ripple of feet slapped on the bare concrete. Jon appeared racing into view, holding a bag, his head bent. He streaked straight past her.
"Bugger," she muttered, and took off after him. Her legs moved like well-honed pistons. She skimmed across the ground trying to close the distance. Chasing him down a narrow, dark lane, Lacey was determined to catch him. Show him the error of his ways. And maybe, just maybe deck the twat for interfering with her sex life.
Chance checked the time; and gauged he had just enough left to stop for a bottle of wine. His cock was already twitching at the thought of taking Jane. He was both punctual and randy. However, he would allow her the one drink as a pleasantry. Before he fucked the ass off her.
Conversation didn't enter into his sex life; there was no place for it. Except maybe to introduce himself, and he didn't always bother doing that. Chance knew he was an arrogant bastard, and it suited him. He didn't differentiate between a female and a lump of meat. Both equated to the same thing to him. They were for his pleasure alone.
He swung the large 4x4 truck over to the curb, and frowned at the sight of a man racing towards him. Chance leapt out as the man reached him and bent over gasping. His turban stood out a startling white in the dim light. "My shop, it's been robbed." The words panted out, a loud grating wheeze groaned from his chest.
Chance sighed and glanced at the figures disappearing down a darkened lane. He scrubbed at his jaw, wishing he wasn't a private detective. For a second he stood contemplating, before finally deciding to get it wound up as soon as possible.
He had a woman to fuck.
With a loud curse at the untimely interruption, he took off after them.
Lacey could hear her breath scraping out in a loud tortured whoosh. Christ she was unfit, her legs ached and her heart hammered in her chest. It drowned out all other sounds. She tried to open her mouth to call on Jon, tell him to stop. Yet no words came out.
Hell she could just about breathe. Conversation was a definite non-starter.
She paused and missed a step, when she saw the dead end, and the wall looming in front.
It was illuminated by the one single streetlight that blazed down. Jon flew over it, taking it like a gazelle. Lacey closed her eyes. Oh for pity's sake. And ran at it knowing damn well she didn't stand a hope in hell.
Chance stopped, his mouth curved into a wicked grin. He was determined the little bastard wasn't getting away, and pulled his gun taking aim. He hated the fact it glared a bright orange. Wished it was the one he kept hidden beneath his seat in the truck.
"Stop or I'll shoot!" His deep voice resonated around the small area. That usually had the desired effect. Although he knew, he shouldn't threaten with a weapon aware he would have his knuckles rapped again for flouting the gun laws. Even though his toy was legit it was illegal to take it out in public. And shooting at someone in such a place could cause issues.
Assault being one of them. It was a good job he had no morals or conscience.
He argued with himself, condoning his actions. It was only a BB powered by a Co2 cartridge. Not as if it was a real gun. Although he wished it were, some of the assholes he dealt with deserved a bullet.
But he wasn't about to be late for any shag. Determined to bring the little thief down before he scaled the wall. No way was he chasing him over that, time didn't allow for it.
He closed in and fired.
It would sting like fuck yet be enough to halt him. He hoped.
Chance nodded with satisfaction when his target toppled to the ground. He made a brief call to ambulance services, and jogged over. It was always a precaution on his behalf. His cerulean eyes scanned the body, it lay still, a tiny particle of blood seeped across the shoulder. Shit, all he wanted to do was stop him.
Chance knew he could have chased after him and pulled him down. However, he couldn't be bothered, he should be sipping out of a glass, his attention focused on the coming evening. Chance was still deliberating over what wine to buy. An image of a nice bottle of Pinot Noir rose in front of him.
His attention wandered to the prone body, and wondered why he was so still. Hell, it wasn't as if he had been using regular ammo. He shouldn't experience more than maybe a punch to the shoulder, a sharp sting.
Nudging the body with his foot, he rolled it over. Uncaring of the small whimper of pain that petered out. His eyes widened in shock at the fragile face of a young woman. Instantly he dropped, and crouched beside her, pulling at the hat she still wore. A thatch of white blonde hair glistened back at him. A scratch of blood edged along her temple. It was obvious she'd hit it on the way down.
"What the hell?" he questioned himself aloud. Then looked up as a clatter of heels came scuttling towards him. The stilettos sounded like a trillion metal balls bouncing over the pavement.
The woman slowed to a halt, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my God, Lacey." She turned on Chance her hazel eyes glazed with a shimmer of tears. "What have you done?"
"Honey, it's not my fault she got caught robbing." He raised one sardonic eyebrow, it curved in a wicked arch. "You should learn to choose your friends with care."
"You idiot." She knelt beside Lacey, touching her cold cheek with the back of her hand. "She was trying to help; she's my brother's social worker."
Chance rocked back on his heels, a frown wrinkling across his brow. Fuck! He knew he was going to get the book thrown at him from the Chief Constable. At least his gun license wouldn't get revoked he thought looking on the bright side. The toy he'd used wasn't classed the same and didn't require one. Not like the piece, he kept for what he liked to call special occasions.
The words she'd said rolled over him. Busybody social workers were the scum of the earth as far as he was concerned. He couldn't stand them. Bloody do gooders that treated potential criminals with kid gloves. Any sympathy he'd had for her rapidly dwindled.
His cock twitched and he checked his watch.
"The ambulance is on its way." Chance rose towering over them, he resembled a dark avenging angel.
"Where are you going?" She glanced with a rush of worry at her unconscious friend. All of a sudden, noticing the spot of blood. "Oh my God she's been shot."
Chance closed his eyes. He hated dramatics. "Honey, I never miss what I aim at." He gave a shake of his dark head. "It's a pellet gun, no lasting damage; the worst of it came from when she hit her head on the way down..."
"You shot her?" she repeated stumbling over her words her eyes were wide in shock.
"Yes and now I'm going." He turned to the loud siren of the ambulance, its blue lights electrifying across the night sky.
"You can't just walk away." Her focus switched back towards Lacey when she started to groan.
"Watch me. I'm already late." He spun around and loped away with lazy hip swinging ease across the walkway. His ass rocked invitingly in a cheeky assed rhythm.
Tracy stared after his departing back. Without a care in the world, he sauntered down the pavement. Never in her entire life had she met someone so cold and uncaring. Suddenly realizing she couldn't even report him, didn't know who he was.
He paused, and shouted over his shoulder as if second-guessing her thoughts. "I've already rung the police." The words rolled out seconds before he disappeared from sight.
The ambulance arrived in a blaze of flashing lights, and Tracy peered up with a sigh of relief. The paramedic jumped out and she couldn't stop the quick thrill running over her. God she loved a man in uniform. It scrambled along with the guilt that rode over her. That she was responsible for putting Lacey in this position. Mixed with relief that her brother had gotten away.
At the same time, she was curious to know the identity of the enigmatic stranger. She wondered what was going to happen when Drew found out. Even more interesting would be when Lacey got her nails into him. Because she would, somehow Lacey would demand revenge. He was a marked man.
Even if he didn't know it.