Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

now, and kissing him was not part of the scheme.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    87

    “Marguerite Saint-Ville?” I asked softly from three inches away.
    “Huh?” he said thickly, his breath coming in quick pants.
    “Why did she come here?”
    “I can’t tell you that,” he said, turning his face away.
    I continued to run my hand down his body. I could feel him getting harder against the back of my hand as I caressed his inner thigh.
    “I don’t believe you,” I whispered in his ear. He shivered.
    Sensitive ears, huh? I don’t pass up any advantage. I leaned in a little closer and sucked his ear lobe into my mouth. He groaned as I nibbled on the tiny piece of succulent flesh. I twirled my tongue around it as I held it captive between my teeth, my hot breath flowing inside the curved canal of his ear. I knew he wouldn’t dare try anything now; I had him by the balls. Literally. Fondling them as I allowed my body to brush against his.
    His breath was coming ragged now, whistling in and out as he pretended to resist me. Like a man gasping after a long time in the desert who suddenly stumbled on an oasis and could have all he wanted, he seemed to just give in to me. I wondered how long it had been for him. Maybe long enough that he could give even me a run for my money.
    “When was the last time you saw Miss Saint-Ville?” I asked, trying a different tack.
    “Fuck. You know her… know when it was,” he stammered.
    “I know more than you think.” His body jerked as I ran my nails over his cloth-covered erection teasingly. I’d done that to myself, and I knew just how it felt and just how hard to do it. What can I say? I like to investigate. Even myself.
    He was struggling to keep his composure, so I knew I had to push him over the edge. I undid one button and let my hand slide inside his shirt. I almost gasped at the heat and smoothness of his chest. Hot damn. It isn’t often when business and pleasure coincide so well.
    “Was she upset when she left?”
    “I wasn’t here—but that’s what I heard…. Oh, yeah,” he gasped.
    The first in answer to my question and the last in response to me 88

    CATT FORD

    pinching his nipple. Sensitive. I like that in a man.
    “Did you know who she was when she came here?” He tried to resist, but I twisted his nipple while grinding my leg between his. His palms were flat on the wall, as if he couldn’t move. It must have been a long time for him, the way he just stood there taking what I was dishing out to him.
    What he didn’t know was that it had been a long time for me too.
    Maybe even longer than for him. I was playing with fire here, and he had me burning with lust. I was standing on the edge of a knife, and I couldn’t let the blade slide in.
    “Yes. I knew.”
    At last! Now we were getting somewhere. I pulled back slightly and undid his belt with one hand. I’m very dexterous. It comes in handy when you’re picking a lock… or questioning a recalcitrant suspect.
    “Why’d you hire her?”
    “I had to.” His voice was hoarse. “Please… please, don’t….” I unzipped his pants. They fell to his ankles. He was wearing silk boxers. Oooh. I liked them! Midnight blue, with a wet spot where his cock was tenting them. Very feely. “You want me to stop?”
    “No! Yes, I mean, fuck! Don’t stop!” He was panting, and a little drop of sweat trickled down his face from his temple.
    I smiled at him, but he didn’t notice. His gaze was fixed on my hand, watching as I stroked the thin fabric that was the only barrier between us. I used my nails again, and he closed his eyes, moaning with sheer pleasure.
    “Who sent her?”
    “No one….”
    “Who was she running from?”
    His eyes flew open, and at last I knew I had a clue. “I can’t tell you.”
    “Can’t? Or won’t?” I asked silkily. I slid my hand inside the opening in front of his boxers, finding the hot, pulsating length of him.
    With one finger and a thumb, I stroked him lightly, teasing him. His Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    89

    hips started to flex as he sought more friction, but I pulled away whenever he got too close, keeping the pressure light.
    “I can’t… don’t know that,” he pleaded with me.
    With both hands, I pulled the waistband away from his trim waist and blew downward, letting my breath cool him off a bit. In truth, I needed a little time to cool off myself. This was just a job, I kept