Crushed Ice (8 page)

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Authors: Eric Pete

BOOK: Crushed Ice
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Chapter 16
For hours they went on, pleasures heaped upon one another by virtue of the intimate knowledge that only another woman could possess.
And I continued to watch.
In the end, Sophia was reduced to tending to a weary and spent Natalia, going as far as wiping her down with a warm towel before departing at daybreak.
Ragged and sore from sitting too long, I stretched before pushing the button for the recording to end. I walked over to the fridge, fighting back a yawn, and grabbed another bottled water before I began edits of my presentation to Jason.
I placed a call to Sophia, anxious to see how she was doing.
“Where are you?”
“Caught a cab,” she muttered. She had to be exhausted.
“Are you okay?”
“I'll live. Wasn't half bad,” she chuckled. “Told you I was willing to do anything.”
“That you did.”
“You saw?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I come by your room? I . . . I just don't feel like being alone. Thought maybe we could cuddle.”
Damn her. Images of her and Natalia were too recent. Too raw on my mind. I wanted her right now in the worst of ways.
“I'm working right now,” I said as I rewound to a still shot of Sophia. Zoomed in on her face when Natalia's mouth first touched her down there. Saw the ecstasy. “Go to your room. Get some sleep. I'll check on you a little later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I got too much work to do.”
“Y'know . . . I could just lay there and watch you. Promise I won't make a sound.”
“No. You would be a distraction. Get some sleep. I'll check up on you.”
I hung up after that. Doing my best to handle her like any other pawn. Girl was too close. The sooner she and Vegas were behind me, the better. For now I had to focus on the client. A client that expected results.
I called Jason, half expecting his voice mail at this time of morning.
“It's me,” I said upon his answering.
“Nice of you to call me, Truth,” Jason North answered, not seeming the least bit disturbed.
“You made it?”
“Yes, we're here. Major press coverage, so On-Phire Records will be representing. Did you pick up that suit for me yet?” he asked, fearing a possible wiretap, I suppose.
“I got it.”
“Incredible. Absolutely incredible,” he crowed. “You never cease to amaze me, son. Where did you buy it? Men's Wearhouse?”
“No, it's Italian. Tailor-made,” I said as I began obscuring Sophia's face throughout the video. I rationalized that it was to protect me, in the event someone recognized her and made her talk. Yeah. That's my story.
“The quality's that good?”
“Impeccable. It should fit your needs rather nicely,” I answered as I manipulated the software to zoom in on Natalia's face during a choice moment to help with authenticity.
“Good. When can I see it?”
“Tonight. I won't be in town much longer. Got places to be.”
“You're not staying for the awards?”
“You know me. I'm not one for that kind of attention. Name the place and I'll be there.”
“Splendid. Why don't you come by the mixer we're holding tonight at Caesars Palace.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and no need for theatrics or sneaking up on me. Security will be on alert. My heart can't take all that. Besides, we have nothing but love for you within our family, son.”
“Keep the love. I've seen the results of your
love
.”
“One day you'll see the light.”
“That day arrived long ago. Or don't you remember?” I asked, hinting at things Jason would rather forget.
“Just bring the suit, Truth.”
“I will.”
Hating loose ends, I got back to work on the video for Jason. When the edits were complete hours later, I burned a DVD then took a look through the camera I had hidden in Sophia's room. With the lamp beside her bed still on, she slept soundly. Passed out atop the covers, still clothed in her dress. I contemplated her earlier request for comfort and companionship, but quickly flicked off the video feed instead. I was in dire need of some sleep, which I would get right after my shower.
 
It took the faint buzz of a missed call on my cell to wake me from my slumber. I fumbled in the darkened room to find it, seeing that it was a call from Jason. He could wait.
But Sophia couldn't.
Even up to this moment, she'd consumed my dre-ams, far more appealing than the usual monsters that dwelled in the dark recesses of my mind, waiting for me to fall victim to their torment. I pulled myself from the plush confines of the exclusive Westin Heavenly Bed, the light escaping through the tiny gap between the curtains telling me it was close to midday.
Dragging myself to the desk, I turned on my laptop once again. Bypassing messages in my inbox, I activated my link to Sophia's video feed.
Nothing.
I tried the link one more time, thinking I had a bad connection.
Still nothing.
My phone rang again, forcing me to check it. It was another call from Jason. Ignoring him, I quickly threw on some clothes to check on Sophia.
When I reached her hotel room, I knocked, but nobody answered. I began to suspect something was wrong. I knocked again, contemplating using the spare room key. Just as I reached in my pocket, she showed, lazily bopping down the hallway, wearing warm-ups that showed off her abs again.
“Where've you been?” I asked, removing my hand from the extra key to her room. I tried hiding my concern about her camera not transmitting, as well as my concern for her well-being.
“Took you up on the spa treatment. Needed some stress relief after last night,” she answered with the insinuation of my reluctance to help a sister out. If only she knew how close I had come to giving in. “Was going to call you to see if you wanted to join me for breakfast, but I figured you had better things to do.”
“I apologize if I came across as rude, Sophia. Just trying to keep things professional.”
“Uh-huh. Want to come in? I mean, since you're paying for the room.”
In spite of my concerns, no dangers awaited us upon entering. Her dress sat on the chair where she'd taken it off, probably still enhanced with Natalia's scent on it. The tiny camera I'd hidden to observe her sat dismantled atop the TV. She said nothing of it, preferring to leave it out there for me to see.
I sat in the chair near the window, watching her step out of her Nikes first. She was about to shower, and I simply smiled, figuring to go through her stuff while she did so.
Habit.
“Did you get what you wanted?” she asked as she removed her warm-up bottoms and panties in unison. Oblivious to the view she was giving anyone who could see in her room from the window behind me, she glistened, courtesy of the fresh oil from her spa session.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“How about on me?”
“What?”
Still half-clothed, she walked over to her purse, that model walk of hers returning in spite of nothing covering her bottom half. She reached in the purse and hurled the wallet containing her driver's license at me. I snatched it from the air before it caught me in the eye.
“Since you want to know about me too,” she said, finally acknowledging the camera she'd found.
As I looked at the driver's license, she continued undressing, disrupting my focus. Sophia Williams of Santa Monica, CA, it read. When I looked up, she was totally nude.
Exposed.
“I'm no amateur,” she offered as my eyes went from hers down to the tiny heart tattoo visible just below her bikini line. “Done some things in the past for a guy I thought I was in love with. I was willing to do anything for him. Kind of like you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, letting the single syllable linger ominously in the air. “Except he was a crackhead. He's responsible for my legal troubles back in Cali. Beautiful man, he was. Cunning as fuck. Turned me on so much. It was a thrill just being around him, sharing the moments. Made me wet like you wouldn't believe.”
“All that reminiscing making you wet now?”
“Want to find out?” she uttered, stopping at the bathroom's edge, her action on pause, daring me to push play.
“Were you telling the truth when you said you'd do anything for me?”
“Yes.”
From my back pocket, I retrieved an envelope. I walked over to her and put it in her hand. “Time to go back to Dallas,” I said calmly.
“Is that all you want from me, Chris? Really?” She was close enough for me to smell the menthol and lavender oils on her body. Their mix with her natural pheromones set my pulse racing.
“Yes,” I replied, a supreme act on my part. “Thank you . . . for everything.”
“Suit yourself,” she snapped. “I'm going take a shower then I'll be out of your hair. Close the door on your way out. And take your camera with you.”
Clutching Sophia's camera in my hand, I obeyed and left for my room. While I had it on my mind, I called Francis the valet, figuring he'd be back at work after last night's shift.
“I need you to pull the cameras 'n stuff. Put them in a garbage bag and dump them out back where we discussed,” I instructed as I moved down the hall on my floor.
“Got what you needed, kid?” he asked.
“No,” I replied with the simplest of lies. Didn't need him blabbing or bragging around the casino. “You still get your bonus though,” I offered.
“Bonuses,” he corrected. “Both of them. Remember? That Loup Garou shit.”
“I remember.” I sighed.
“Yeah, that's what's up.” He chuckled. “Keep at Penny. Rep for the NYC, son. You'll catch him slippin'.”
“No doubt.”
“Hey, I gotta run. Diddy just pulled up in his Bentley. Nigga a good tipper.
Is he who you working for?
” Francis guessed in a hushed whisper.
“Can't talk about that. Handle your business, kid,” I extolled. “Just don't forget to get rid of those cameras.”
“I won't.”
“Thanks.”
“No prob. Peace.”
Upon entering, I decided to see what was videoed from Penny Antnee's room. Just in case there was something useful.
It was black at first, making me think it had been found like Sophia's. But as I rewound it, images began to form.
“What the fuck,” I said aloud as I suddenly stopped the recording from last night. I backed up by a few minutes then pushed play.
Penny Antnee was displayed in all his glory, pounding away on his sexual conquest, who lay sprawled face down beneath him on the bed. Unlike Natalia's room, this one had audio.
“You like that shit, don'tcha?” Penny yelled, sweat evident on his tatted-up body. I could've rewound further, as they'd been going at it a while.
Definitely bonus material for me to work with.
Rather than continuing, I stopped. I looked around my room, feeling something was off, even though I had been gone a short time. I thought again about Sophia discovering her camera as hairs rose on the back of my neck again.
Paranoia was sometimes an ally.
I quickly gathered my things and packed up, wondering if someone was watching me, just as I was apt to do.

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