Contract Bride
Contract Bride
https://amzn.to/2UoNonB
Ayn Amorelli
Chapter One
“What type of girl are you looking for, old buddy?” asked George, neatly stacking numerous invoices for his topless maid agency at his large gray metal desk. “Maybe I can help.”
“You’re going to think I’m nuts,” Bob murmured, crossing his legs Indian style, as he took a sip of tepid coffee from his paper cup. Hell, maybe he was crazy. But he was also desperate.
Spreading the twenty color photographs of nude blondes, brunettes, and redheads on the floor around him, Bob adjusted his wire-rim glasses as he studied them. All the girls were seductively posed, standing with one shapely hip jutting out and one knee slightly bent. They ranged in age from the mid-twenties to the mid-thirties, and all were pretty and sexy with big, firm, thrusting breasts, shiny nipples, small waists and slender hips. Hell, he got hard just looking at them. If he could afford it, he would try every one. But not only didn’t he have the cash, he was short on time. He’d been racking his brain ever since his late aunt’s lawyers had called him a week ago. He’d finally devised a plan that just, as insane as it was, might work.
“So? That’s never stopped you before. I know whatever it is, is damn important for you to get out this early on a Saturday. So spill it. What gives?”
“You’ve got to keep what I tell you confidential.”
“Oh, shit!” moaned George, stiffening. “I hate cloak and dagger stuff. I’m sorry I asked now.”
“Too late. I’ve got to tell someone.”
“Damn!” muttered George.
“But you’ve got to—”
“I know. I’ve got to keep it confidential. So what is it? You in trouble with the Feds…or is it drugs? Is that it?”
“Nothing as exotic as that,” Bob whispered, glancing around suspiciously, “but it wouldn’t do for what I’m about to tell you to get out. If the wrong people heard about it, they might misunderstand.”
“Hold it! Can I go to jail if I know what it is you’re up to?” George asked, pushing aside the pile of invoices, as he studied his old friend.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I don’t think so, but then I’m not a lawyer and I haven’t got time for you to consult one. I’ve got a little legal matter that has to be settled by the end of the year. But in order to do that I need to get started implementing my plan right away.”
“How little?”
“How little what?”
George ground his teeth. “How little is the legal matter? Are we talking about a ‘you’ll go to prison if you’re wrong’ legal matter, or a ‘jail-time’ legal matter?” “Neither. I’m....oh, shit!” grumbled Bob, taking a swig of his stale coffee; stalling for time, trying to figure out how to best tell his friend without sounding insane. “What I need is a woman who’s sexy and attractive enough for me to screw as much as necessary to knock her up right away. She has to deliver by the end of the year. But she can’t be cheap-looking. She has to look and act enough like a lady to be my wife and the mother of my child. She has to be able to pass the inspection of some old geezer legal types.”
George looked blankly at him. “You’re pulling my leg, right?” He laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Got to hand it to you, though. You had me going there for a while. I thought for sure you were serious.”
“Do I look like I’m pulling a prank? I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. A lot of money is riding on this. I’ve got to find a nice-looking girl who’s willing to marry me temporarily, have my kid by the end of the year, and give me a divorce after the kid’s born.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’ve got to have a kid, correct? One who’s born this year?”
“I need a wife too, George. I’ve got to look like I’m a stable family man.”
“Because?”
“I’m in my late aunt’s will. I don’t get the dough unless I meet her terms.”
“How much dough are we talking about here?”
“Does it matter?”
“Hell, yes. If we’re talking below a hundred, you can take care of the matter yourself. But if we’re talking about an amount large enough for you to generously pay your friend several hundred for his help, then I’ll do what I can.”
Sipping his coffee, Bob kept his face bland. There was no way in hell he’d tell George about the whole twenty million bucks. As much as he liked the guy, George had a strong tendency to be greedy. He’d never passed up the opportunity to make a fast buck, even off his friends. “Let me put it this way, I’d be willing to pay you a generous finder’s fee if you can steer me toward a woman who meets my requirements.”
“How generous?”
“One, maybe two, three hundred.”
“Too bad. My definition of generous is seven hundred.”
“That’s highway robbery. I’ll give you five.”
“Six.”
“Either you know someone or you don’t, and all I need is her name. Five. That’s my final offer.”
“Five-fifty?”
Bob shrugged. “Doable. But for that, you’ll have to help me set something up with her. I’m not going to pay you until I decide she’s the one, and she accepts my offer.”
George studied him speculatively. “That’s fair,” he grinned maliciously, suppressing his welling laughter. “I accept cashier’s checks or cash.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Cashier’s checks or cash.”
Bob went rigid. “Are you out of your mind? I’m your friend, dammit! You think I’d stiff you with a bum check? Hell, man, you know where I live! I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were. But I never take chances with money.”
Bob muttered a curse under his breath, then held out his hand. “Deal.”
“What does this fantasy woman of yours have to look like?”
“She has to be sexy and attractive, of course. And the way I see it, she’ll have to be someone who needs money badly enough to go along with my plan. But she can’t look needy. She’s got to be a sharp dresser with a flair for style. She has to speak well and think fast on her feet. But…you know how easily I get bored. Hell, that’s one of the reasons why I’m still single. I’ve never found anyone who could satisfy me long enough to consider having a long-term relationship, so—”
“Just like your old man, huh?” interrupted George. The minute the words were out, he regretted them. He watched Bob’s face turn stark white and his green eyes gaze off in the distance, filled with so much pain it hurt to look at him. Nervously, George cleared his throat.
But Bob didn’t seem to notice and, instead, nodded slowly. “He had a new girl every week.” He sighed raggedly, his voice raw with emotion. “It was fortunate for him he was so good looking. Girls weren’t interested in him for money.”
George mentally kicked himself for bringing up the subject he knew his friend was the most sensitive about. Bob had scars from that period, still, even though his parents were dead…just as dead as the look now in Bob’s sad eyes. It was small wonder Bob’s father had affairs, though. He’d been married to a bat straight out of hell. And worse, he’d had to stay, because he worked for his damn father-in-law, who’d made him sign an iron-clad contract.
“I think Dad loved Mom on some level,” Bob muttered, as if talking to himself, forgetting where he was for the moment, and that George was listening. “At least he claimed he did, once. I remember their fights three, four times a week with Mom throwing things. Over time, her aim improved and she sent him to the hospital.”
Listening to Bob’s words, feeling his anguish, George had a strong urge to throw up. He’d never felt this uncomfortable before in his life. He had to restrain the need to rush out of there, before he himself was swamped in the palpable waves of Bob’s pain. Nervously, he coughed, very uncomfortable.
But Bob wasn’t through. “I promised Dad I’d never marry. You didn’t know that, did you?” He continued quickly, just as George opened his mouth. “No one did, except Mom. He sighed heavily. “Thank God he isn’t alive to see what I have to do today.”
“Yeah,” George agreed, rubbing his temples, feeling a pounding headache coming on. He looked everywhere but at Bob, hoping he was saying the right thing. “Um…I think there’s a way I can help you.” he said, summoning up the courage to look at him again. “You know how my business is booming now. I’ve even hired a damn secretary to help me keep up. I’ve had to add to my stable of topless maids too.”
“Congratulations. But how does that help me?”
Ignoring Bob’s sarcasm, George grinned wide, showing all his teeth.
“I’m coming to that! There’s one girl I just hired; little Kayla Leigh. She’s so new I haven’t had time to add her picture to the others yet. She’s young; twenty-five to be exact, with long blonde hair and huge brown eyes. A real innocent type. She’s kinda’ a late bloomer too. Her thirty-six inch tits are the firmest I’ve ever seen, and those nipples of hers; so help me God! If my bride wasn’t so mean, I would’ve tried something with her the moment she walked in. I mean, she was dressed real nice, wearing a damn three-piece white silk suit, for Christsake. I thought she was lost at first and had wandered in here by mistake. But when she took off her jacket and I got a look at those breasts of hers poking through that white silk blouse, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I swear those nipples take up a full quarter of her breasts. And they’re very responsive too. When I took her picture, I accidentally bumped against her, you know, then started to steady her. Only, clumsy oaf that I am, my hand missed her arm, and cupped her breast instead. Well, you know me. Of its own accord, my thumb brushed her nipple and it hardened right away.” He sighed heavily. “I mean it, Bob. She’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Bob laughed. George was an expert photographer and had never been clumsy in his life. “She sounds good, but she’s only twenty-five?
Hell, I’m ten years her senior. Don’t you have someone suitable who’s a little older? Someone more sophisticated with some sexual savvy? I was thinking more late twenties, early thirties.”
“Pardon me for saying, but it doesn’t sound like you can afford to be too picky. And there are advantages with a younger woman. For one thing, you can train her exactly the way you want.”
In spite of his reservations, Bob felt his heart speed up, his interest increasing. “So this girl, Kayla, will do everything I say?”
Without warning, he remembered his fat mother with her bleached blonde hair in huge curlers, her old terry cloth bathrobe tied around her, arms crossed, tapping her bare foot with a cigarette dangling from her lips as she stood in the hall. Like a traffic cop, she stood there, the pudgy fingers of her right hand invariably pointed to him first, waving him into the bathroom, ignoring his father who sprinted awkwardly down the stairs with his legs held as tightly together as he could hold them and still move. No wonder his father had prostrate trouble. Bob’s mother never let him go to the bathroom before he left for work, not caring he had an hour’s drive ahead of him, and, dammit all, he took it!
“Well, not everything,” continued George. “You don’t want a doormat, you know. Doormats have no spunk in bed.”
Bob took another sip of stale coffee. She will if I train her right. But he kept his thought to himself.
“And another thing,” continued George, “you said yourself you need someone with money problems too, right? Big money problems, if I’m reading you right. Kayla Leigh has more than all of my other girls combined. I mean, she checked out okay. Her background’s solid. It’s just that… well, she has a ‘thing’ for the finest money can buy. Her credit rating’s the lowest I’ve ever seen. All her credit cards are maxed out and over-due. The P.I. that works with me found out her apartment manager is threatening to throw her out. Seems the poor girl’s three months behind on her rent, and the repo man for the car dealer’s about to get his orders to take her brand new Volvo. She’s desperate.”
Desperate? Bob started perspiring heavily, and his heart pounded. Like Dad had been that time when he’d tried to win back the food money he’d lost in a ‘friendly’ game of cards before he got to the store? To this day, he still remembered standing beside his mother in the police station, and how his father looked in his torn jeans and white tee-shirt with blood stains on it. His eyes had been nearly swollen shut, and his nose broken. The discoloring flesh had created a strange jigsaw patterned mask of purple, blue and magenta across his face. But his father had held his head high and his shoulders straight, despite Bob’s mother glaring at him out of eyes narrowed to slits, as he tried to explain to his wife what had happened.
What had made it worse was Tommy, who was in Bob’s third grade class, spotted them walking out of the jailhouse together, and had called him a jail bird the next day, in front of everyone. Bob had slugged him, of course. Then he’d had to endure his mother’s wrathful nagging. She’d berated him for starting to be like his dad, and had threatened to refuse to love him if he continued. For an eight-year-old, it was a mortifying experience. The best thing to do was be a law-abiding citizen, at least enough so you didn’t draw attention to yourself. It was a hell of a lot safer.
Shaking his head, Bob came back to the present. “She’s not into booze or gambling, is she?” he asked.
“Hell, no!” said George. “You think I’d take her on if she was?”
“But what I don’t want is someone drawing unfavorable—”
“Look, it’s simple. Kayla just likes fancy clothes, luxury high-rises, expensive jewelry and great cars; that kinda’ crap. But she doesn’t have the patience to wait until she can afford them, so she got in over her head. That’s why she came to me. I’ve got a reputation for paying my girls real quick, in hard, cold cash.” He smiled wide. “All they have to do is go topless and clean a few lousy homes that don’t really need it, if you get my drift. And for that little bit of work, they get to keep half of what I charge the clients, and keep any tips they make for themselves.”
“How commendable,” he muttered, deciding to slug him if he asked him to invest in his business. “But I‘d like someone with a little sexual savvy. The last thing I want is to go to bed with a naïve, wild-eyed innocent who still believes in romance and love, for God’s sake. What I’m offering is a business proposition, period. I don’t want anyone with illusions about what they’re getting into.”
His eyes clouded as he remembered that overcast day in the spring of his junior year. Remember, son, his father had said, walking out of the garage, zipping up his pants after he’d screwed the girl Bob had thought he loved, confusing love with romance is dangerous. It’s how women trap men.
George grinned as he opened a drawer and slid a couple of glossy eight-by-tens over the desk. “Look at this girl. Just look! I haven’t even sent her out on a job yet. I’ve been looking for just the right client so as not to scare her off. My point is, she’s not familiar with the rules. Usually, I don’t allow any funny business. No hanky-panky. But Kayla doesn’t know that. So let me send her over to your place and you feel her up a little. She won’t know you can’t. She’ll think it’s just part of the job.” He leaned back. “If you tried any of that crap with any of those girls you’ve been leering at, you’d get your face slapped, and hard. However, I’ll let you have Kayla on one condition. If you decide on her, I get a generous finder’s fee of five hundred and fifty bucks.”
“Are you out of your mind? Do you know what you’re…” Bob stilled as he looked down at the picture of the blonde. Her peaches and cream complexion in her heart-shaped face was flawless. But, although her pink lips were smiling, the smile didn’t extend to her large brown eyes, which seemed to be drilling holes in the camera lens. Challengingly. If there was one thing he loved, it was conquering challenges; meeting them head-on. Especially if the challenge came from an attractive, shapely young woman. Like this one.
He could easily imagine getting behind her, holding her close to him despite her resistance while one hand cupped a firm breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb while he ran his other hand into black silk panties. He’d rub her clitoris slowly while lightly nipping her silken neck and shoulders until he felt her pelvis tilt in anticipation of its climax. Then, he’d spin her around, kiss the hell out of those luscious breasts of hers, then ease her down over his knees, licking that firm ass of hers, then spanking her for being such a naughty girl; for making him want her like he did.
As his eyes continued traveling down past her golden, fashionably cut shoulder-length hair, which looked wind-blown and sexy as hell, he zeroed in on her thrusting breasts, and his penis stretched in approval. God, he was hard as a rock, wanting to wedge his penis into her, fucking her senseless with his lips firmly fastened on those pert nipples.
Damn! She was built, just like good old George’d promised! Her firm breasts were a good six inches larger than her tiny waist, and those long skinny legs of hers were a turn-on. He could easily imagine them around him, squeezing hard as he pumped her, feeling her clamp that tight little vagina around his throbbing penis.
“How much for the night?” he croaked hoarsely, then quickly cleared his throat. “A hundred? Two? Keep in mind this’ll just be a test. If there’s not the right chemistry; if she’s too stand-offish, too shy, too slow, I’ll have to try someone else. I can’t afford to waste time on someone not right for the job.”
George raised his brows, with a rueful expression on his craggy face. “After all this time you don’t know how much I charge? I’m crushed, Bob. Just crushed. But don’t worry about the damned fee. Not tonight. If you like her, and decide she’s the one for what you’ve got in mind, just give me the seven hundred we agreed on. That’s it. No added charges.”
Bob choked on his coffee. “We agreed on five hundred and fifty.”
“Price just went up. Take it or leave it.”
Draining his coffee while George answered the phone, Bob remembered his late aunt. If it wasn’t for her and her stupid will, he wouldn’t be in this mess. But despite her being a spinster, she was one hip broad who didn’t miss a trick. For one so old (she had been at least fifty) she’d had great eye-sight. He remembered spending the day with her when he was six. Because he liked her so much, and wanted her to like him, he also wanted to get along with her kitty, Tabitha, a huge Siamese. A sweet-natured kid, he’d softly petted her silky fur, cooing to her in what he thought was a sweet voice, telling her how pretty she was, and how smart. While it surprised him she growled instead of meowing like a normal cat, he’d taken it in stride. They were, after all, in New England. Maybe, he reasoned, cats just spoke differently clear up here.
At first, Aunt Hortense had watched him skeptically, then she’d relaxed as the cat stopped swishing her tail with her ears pinned back. It was all right with him that she watched them so carefully. He was a stranger here and not familiar with their customs and things. But when his aunt went to turn off the kettle in the kitchen, he decided maybe Tabitha wanted to play; and that’s when the trouble began.
He had no idea how territorial cats are about their possessions, so when he reached into the big bag of colorful yarn and threw a ball of bright red under the kitty’s nose, he was surprised when Tabitha reared back, pinned her ears back again, bared her fangs, and spit at him with narrowed green eyes. The way she started growling too, startled him, since it was deeper than her growls earlier, and was continuous.
“How are you and Tabitha getting along?” called his aunt from the kitchen. “Everything still okay?”
“Sure,” he shouted, jumping back as Tabitha lunged straight for him, jumping up on him, then chasing him to the fireplace, where he had no choice but to climb the unevenly-spaced bricks, hanging onto the mantle for dear life as the cat paced back and forth on the hearth, her eyes glued on him.
“What the heck?” screeched his aunt, nearly dropping her silver tray laden down with steaming tea and sweet-smelling treats, as she rushed to pick up her kitty and comfort her. “Why are you scaring Tabitha?” she demanded. “Get down from there, this minute!” Although he was bewildered by her thinking he was scaring her cat instead of the other way around, he obediently jumped down. His aunt calmed down and he drank his tea beside her and studied the cat. She was one cunning creature, acting loveable and purring when Aunt Hortense was around, then turning into a spoiled little monster when her back was turned. Well, two could play at that game, he decided, waiting for his chance to get even.
It didn’t take long for him to get it.
When his aunt answered the phone, talking to whoever it was, with her back turned to him, he had seen his chance to get back at Tabitha, who was now asleep. Grabbing the cat before she could react, he stuck her deep in his aunt’s knitting bag, burying her under the numerous balls of colorful yarn.
Unfortunately, the cat was quick too, and, before he knew it, balls of yarn exploded from the bag, bouncing helter-skelter across the floor as the cat shot out of the bag, shaking itself out of the offending yarn, then looked around. But Bob didn’t give her the chance to get even, and instead took off, running as fast as he could…careening head first against Aunt Hortense’s legs. Continuing on with her conversation and without looking, Aunt Hortense literally seemed to jump across the room, swinging a strong arm, to slap some manners into him. After that, Aunt Hortense never asked him to spend time with her again.
“Deal?” asked George, hanging up the phone. “Or not?”
Bob nodded. “Hell, yes. If I don’t produce a child, the money goes to build a damn orphanage for stray cats. The site’s already been picked right beside the park of my own subdivision. That’s to punish me, I’m sure, if I don’t do what she wanted. I’ll have to either look at it every time I go in go in or out, or move away. Something I’m not about to do.”
George’s eyes widened. Then he laughed. “Oh, boy! Does she have it in for you, or what?”
“I don’t see what’s so damn funny. It’s not like I knew her well. I only saw her a few times when I was a kid...and stayed with her for a few hours once when I was six and again for a couple of days when I had leave while I was in the Army. But, apparently, she remembered me. I think she was impressed in spite of herself. She kept telling me what a handsome young man I’d turned out to be, but how surprised she was that I hadn’t married yet. To insure I would, I think, she made it clear in her will that her lawyers have to interview my ‘wife’ and satisfy themselves everything’s legit. At that point, they’ll advance a quarter of the money. I’ll get the remainder only when my bride gives birth. And if she doesn’t give birth within the year, I have to pay back the damned money they extended. I don’t think she died at this time of year just for spite. But that’s how it’s turned out. It’s already April. If I can’t knock up my new wife by next month, I lose it all. And if she’s as much as a month late, I’ve lost it all too.”
George nodded, studying the calendar with the girly picture on the wall. “Your chosen victim should give birth by Christmas. But since this’ll be her first child, who knows? Some women carry ten months.”
“Exactly, and it’s that kind of risk that scares the hell out of me. I’ve got to get started right away. I can’t afford a woman who might have any reservations about this. She’s got to be willing to do nothing but screw for a while, have my kid and then give me a divorce a few months after the kid’s born. But I’ll make it worth her while. She can even keep the kid.”
Looking absently at his nails, George frowned as if he disapproved of them. “A hell of a lot more money’s involved here than just a few paltry hundred, right?” Bob nodded curtly. What the hell? Why shouldn’t he spill it? He knew
George would find out sooner or later anyway. “Twenty million dollars. That’s what I stand to gain if my plan works. Twenty million beautiful greenbacks!”
George’s face turned so red, Bob was afraid he’d have a heart attack right then and there.
“You can see why this is so important, right?”
“Sure as hell can,” George breathed heavily. “I never knew anyone in your family had that kind of dough. Comes as kind of a shock.”
“Well, hell, it did to me too.”
As George’s secretary came in with papers for him to sign, Bob remembered the first time he and his parents had driven up there for a ‘fun’ family vacation.
It had been his first time to meet his old great aunt on his father’s side. His parents, as usual, were arguing; this time about how much gas they’d need to get back to a town that resembled civilization. He remembered they’d turned onto the long, badly pock-holed graveled drive-way, and had made their way to the huge old house that hid behind some trees, with only its red brick chimney visible. Bob had been fascinated by all the trees that looked like they extended for miles in all directions. He’d wanted to explore them while his parents were talking with his aunt. But they had other plans, and promptly put him between them, keeping him there with his mother’s hand on one shoulder and his father’s hand on his other shoulder. He’d only been four at the time, but he remembered it vividly.
When an ancient-looking, bald-headed man dressed in a tuxedo opened the biggest door Bob had ever seen, he tried hard to escape from his parents and hide in the safety of their car. But when they were led through the longest hallway he’d ever seen and he’d seen the huge old woman with the bright red lips and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen amble toward them, and she had reached down for him with a grin, he had been paralyzed with fear. He’d been so terrified he’d had nightmares for over a week. As George’s secretary left, Bob continued. “When we moved down here from Ohio, when I was ten, I never saw her again, ‘till I was in the Army.” George let out a low whistle. “Yeah? Well, you must’ve made some kinda’ impression on the old broad. So do what you gotta, and don’t worry about anything. You’ve got old George to help you now. Don’t even think about the money for tonight or for however long it takes to convince your chosen victim to go along with your plans. I trust you. And if Kayla proves not to be the right one, try another of my girls. Hell, try ‘em all.”
Reaching into the tall metal cabinet behind him, he grabbed another stack of glossy nudes. “These are duplicates of what you’ve got over there. Take ‘em. Study ‘em. If another girl catches your eye, just call. But,” he grinned, “I trust you’ll be just as generous with me as I am with you. So you’ll understand why my finder’s fee just rose to ten thousand, payable after you get your dough. Hell, I’ll even deduct the seven hundred we agreed on, and which you’ll pay me once you decide who you’ll pick. Hell, who knows, maybe you’ll throw in a little bonus for yours truly too. Not that I’m pressuring you or anything. It’s just a thought. One that’ll keep me patient for as long as it takes you to make up your mind.” He grinned archly. “Just as long as you do it damn quick.”
Standing, getting his keys out of the back pocket of his jeans, Bob ground his teeth.
If there was one thing he hated, it was being out of control. Not only had he received the call from the lawyers at the ungodly hour of seven a.m., he was told, in a voice that sounded like a machine gun firing, about his aunt’s death and the need for him to come to their office the following Thursday. They had refused to reschedule for a more convenient time for him, forcing him to cancel an important meeting with a prospective home buyer who was thinking of using him as their architect. But it seemed in the past two weeks, since great-aunt Hortense’s lawyers had first contacted him, he’d had no control over anything.
“Let’s go with victim number one for starters,” said Bob. “Have Kayla or whatever the hell her name is at my place around seven.” That was one hurdle over with, he thought. Only a few more to go. “But don’t spill my plan. I’m not making an offer until I’ve sampled the merchandise. Let her think this is just a job.”
“Of course, old buddy. Of course! She’ll be wearing a black satin skirt, black lace panties, black hose, spike heels and a smile. Nothing else. So she’ll be real easy to recognize.”
As satisfied as he could be under the circumstances, Bob went out, listening to his friend muttering something unintelligible. Alone, George studied Kayla’s picture. Although she was luscious, she was also, unfortunately, stand-offish. But then she was inexperienced in the ways of the world. Chances were, though, she could be easily bluffed, especially if the lure was money. Not that he’d tell her Bob’s plan, of course. But a few white lies would work wonders, if told in the right way.
https://amzn.to/2UoNonB
Ayn Amorelli
Chapter One
“What type of girl are you looking for, old buddy?” asked George, neatly stacking numerous invoices for his topless maid agency at his large gray metal desk. “Maybe I can help.”
“You’re going to think I’m nuts,” Bob murmured, crossing his legs Indian style, as he took a sip of tepid coffee from his paper cup. Hell, maybe he was crazy. But he was also desperate.
Spreading the twenty color photographs of nude blondes, brunettes, and redheads on the floor around him, Bob adjusted his wire-rim glasses as he studied them. All the girls were seductively posed, standing with one shapely hip jutting out and one knee slightly bent. They ranged in age from the mid-twenties to the mid-thirties, and all were pretty and sexy with big, firm, thrusting breasts, shiny nipples, small waists and slender hips. Hell, he got hard just looking at them. If he could afford it, he would try every one. But not only didn’t he have the cash, he was short on time. He’d been racking his brain ever since his late aunt’s lawyers had called him a week ago. He’d finally devised a plan that just, as insane as it was, might work.
“So? That’s never stopped you before. I know whatever it is, is damn important for you to get out this early on a Saturday. So spill it. What gives?”
“You’ve got to keep what I tell you confidential.”
“Oh, shit!” moaned George, stiffening. “I hate cloak and dagger stuff. I’m sorry I asked now.”
“Too late. I’ve got to tell someone.”
“Damn!” muttered George.
“But you’ve got to—”
“I know. I’ve got to keep it confidential. So what is it? You in trouble with the Feds…or is it drugs? Is that it?”
“Nothing as exotic as that,” Bob whispered, glancing around suspiciously, “but it wouldn’t do for what I’m about to tell you to get out. If the wrong people heard about it, they might misunderstand.”
“Hold it! Can I go to jail if I know what it is you’re up to?” George asked, pushing aside the pile of invoices, as he studied his old friend.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I don’t think so, but then I’m not a lawyer and I haven’t got time for you to consult one. I’ve got a little legal matter that has to be settled by the end of the year. But in order to do that I need to get started implementing my plan right away.”
“How little?”
“How little what?”
George ground his teeth. “How little is the legal matter? Are we talking about a ‘you’ll go to prison if you’re wrong’ legal matter, or a ‘jail-time’ legal matter?” “Neither. I’m....oh, shit!” grumbled Bob, taking a swig of his stale coffee; stalling for time, trying to figure out how to best tell his friend without sounding insane. “What I need is a woman who’s sexy and attractive enough for me to screw as much as necessary to knock her up right away. She has to deliver by the end of the year. But she can’t be cheap-looking. She has to look and act enough like a lady to be my wife and the mother of my child. She has to be able to pass the inspection of some old geezer legal types.”
George looked blankly at him. “You’re pulling my leg, right?” He laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Got to hand it to you, though. You had me going there for a while. I thought for sure you were serious.”
“Do I look like I’m pulling a prank? I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. A lot of money is riding on this. I’ve got to find a nice-looking girl who’s willing to marry me temporarily, have my kid by the end of the year, and give me a divorce after the kid’s born.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’ve got to have a kid, correct? One who’s born this year?”
“I need a wife too, George. I’ve got to look like I’m a stable family man.”
“Because?”
“I’m in my late aunt’s will. I don’t get the dough unless I meet her terms.”
“How much dough are we talking about here?”
“Does it matter?”
“Hell, yes. If we’re talking below a hundred, you can take care of the matter yourself. But if we’re talking about an amount large enough for you to generously pay your friend several hundred for his help, then I’ll do what I can.”
Sipping his coffee, Bob kept his face bland. There was no way in hell he’d tell George about the whole twenty million bucks. As much as he liked the guy, George had a strong tendency to be greedy. He’d never passed up the opportunity to make a fast buck, even off his friends. “Let me put it this way, I’d be willing to pay you a generous finder’s fee if you can steer me toward a woman who meets my requirements.”
“How generous?”
“One, maybe two, three hundred.”
“Too bad. My definition of generous is seven hundred.”
“That’s highway robbery. I’ll give you five.”
“Six.”
“Either you know someone or you don’t, and all I need is her name. Five. That’s my final offer.”
“Five-fifty?”
Bob shrugged. “Doable. But for that, you’ll have to help me set something up with her. I’m not going to pay you until I decide she’s the one, and she accepts my offer.”
George studied him speculatively. “That’s fair,” he grinned maliciously, suppressing his welling laughter. “I accept cashier’s checks or cash.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Cashier’s checks or cash.”
Bob went rigid. “Are you out of your mind? I’m your friend, dammit! You think I’d stiff you with a bum check? Hell, man, you know where I live! I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were. But I never take chances with money.”
Bob muttered a curse under his breath, then held out his hand. “Deal.”
“What does this fantasy woman of yours have to look like?”
“She has to be sexy and attractive, of course. And the way I see it, she’ll have to be someone who needs money badly enough to go along with my plan. But she can’t look needy. She’s got to be a sharp dresser with a flair for style. She has to speak well and think fast on her feet. But…you know how easily I get bored. Hell, that’s one of the reasons why I’m still single. I’ve never found anyone who could satisfy me long enough to consider having a long-term relationship, so—”
“Just like your old man, huh?” interrupted George. The minute the words were out, he regretted them. He watched Bob’s face turn stark white and his green eyes gaze off in the distance, filled with so much pain it hurt to look at him. Nervously, George cleared his throat.
But Bob didn’t seem to notice and, instead, nodded slowly. “He had a new girl every week.” He sighed raggedly, his voice raw with emotion. “It was fortunate for him he was so good looking. Girls weren’t interested in him for money.”
George mentally kicked himself for bringing up the subject he knew his friend was the most sensitive about. Bob had scars from that period, still, even though his parents were dead…just as dead as the look now in Bob’s sad eyes. It was small wonder Bob’s father had affairs, though. He’d been married to a bat straight out of hell. And worse, he’d had to stay, because he worked for his damn father-in-law, who’d made him sign an iron-clad contract.
“I think Dad loved Mom on some level,” Bob muttered, as if talking to himself, forgetting where he was for the moment, and that George was listening. “At least he claimed he did, once. I remember their fights three, four times a week with Mom throwing things. Over time, her aim improved and she sent him to the hospital.”
Listening to Bob’s words, feeling his anguish, George had a strong urge to throw up. He’d never felt this uncomfortable before in his life. He had to restrain the need to rush out of there, before he himself was swamped in the palpable waves of Bob’s pain. Nervously, he coughed, very uncomfortable.
But Bob wasn’t through. “I promised Dad I’d never marry. You didn’t know that, did you?” He continued quickly, just as George opened his mouth. “No one did, except Mom. He sighed heavily. “Thank God he isn’t alive to see what I have to do today.”
“Yeah,” George agreed, rubbing his temples, feeling a pounding headache coming on. He looked everywhere but at Bob, hoping he was saying the right thing. “Um…I think there’s a way I can help you.” he said, summoning up the courage to look at him again. “You know how my business is booming now. I’ve even hired a damn secretary to help me keep up. I’ve had to add to my stable of topless maids too.”
“Congratulations. But how does that help me?”
Ignoring Bob’s sarcasm, George grinned wide, showing all his teeth.
“I’m coming to that! There’s one girl I just hired; little Kayla Leigh. She’s so new I haven’t had time to add her picture to the others yet. She’s young; twenty-five to be exact, with long blonde hair and huge brown eyes. A real innocent type. She’s kinda’ a late bloomer too. Her thirty-six inch tits are the firmest I’ve ever seen, and those nipples of hers; so help me God! If my bride wasn’t so mean, I would’ve tried something with her the moment she walked in. I mean, she was dressed real nice, wearing a damn three-piece white silk suit, for Christsake. I thought she was lost at first and had wandered in here by mistake. But when she took off her jacket and I got a look at those breasts of hers poking through that white silk blouse, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I swear those nipples take up a full quarter of her breasts. And they’re very responsive too. When I took her picture, I accidentally bumped against her, you know, then started to steady her. Only, clumsy oaf that I am, my hand missed her arm, and cupped her breast instead. Well, you know me. Of its own accord, my thumb brushed her nipple and it hardened right away.” He sighed heavily. “I mean it, Bob. She’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Bob laughed. George was an expert photographer and had never been clumsy in his life. “She sounds good, but she’s only twenty-five?
Hell, I’m ten years her senior. Don’t you have someone suitable who’s a little older? Someone more sophisticated with some sexual savvy? I was thinking more late twenties, early thirties.”
“Pardon me for saying, but it doesn’t sound like you can afford to be too picky. And there are advantages with a younger woman. For one thing, you can train her exactly the way you want.”
In spite of his reservations, Bob felt his heart speed up, his interest increasing. “So this girl, Kayla, will do everything I say?”
Without warning, he remembered his fat mother with her bleached blonde hair in huge curlers, her old terry cloth bathrobe tied around her, arms crossed, tapping her bare foot with a cigarette dangling from her lips as she stood in the hall. Like a traffic cop, she stood there, the pudgy fingers of her right hand invariably pointed to him first, waving him into the bathroom, ignoring his father who sprinted awkwardly down the stairs with his legs held as tightly together as he could hold them and still move. No wonder his father had prostrate trouble. Bob’s mother never let him go to the bathroom before he left for work, not caring he had an hour’s drive ahead of him, and, dammit all, he took it!
“Well, not everything,” continued George. “You don’t want a doormat, you know. Doormats have no spunk in bed.”
Bob took another sip of stale coffee. She will if I train her right. But he kept his thought to himself.
“And another thing,” continued George, “you said yourself you need someone with money problems too, right? Big money problems, if I’m reading you right. Kayla Leigh has more than all of my other girls combined. I mean, she checked out okay. Her background’s solid. It’s just that… well, she has a ‘thing’ for the finest money can buy. Her credit rating’s the lowest I’ve ever seen. All her credit cards are maxed out and over-due. The P.I. that works with me found out her apartment manager is threatening to throw her out. Seems the poor girl’s three months behind on her rent, and the repo man for the car dealer’s about to get his orders to take her brand new Volvo. She’s desperate.”
Desperate? Bob started perspiring heavily, and his heart pounded. Like Dad had been that time when he’d tried to win back the food money he’d lost in a ‘friendly’ game of cards before he got to the store? To this day, he still remembered standing beside his mother in the police station, and how his father looked in his torn jeans and white tee-shirt with blood stains on it. His eyes had been nearly swollen shut, and his nose broken. The discoloring flesh had created a strange jigsaw patterned mask of purple, blue and magenta across his face. But his father had held his head high and his shoulders straight, despite Bob’s mother glaring at him out of eyes narrowed to slits, as he tried to explain to his wife what had happened.
What had made it worse was Tommy, who was in Bob’s third grade class, spotted them walking out of the jailhouse together, and had called him a jail bird the next day, in front of everyone. Bob had slugged him, of course. Then he’d had to endure his mother’s wrathful nagging. She’d berated him for starting to be like his dad, and had threatened to refuse to love him if he continued. For an eight-year-old, it was a mortifying experience. The best thing to do was be a law-abiding citizen, at least enough so you didn’t draw attention to yourself. It was a hell of a lot safer.
Shaking his head, Bob came back to the present. “She’s not into booze or gambling, is she?” he asked.
“Hell, no!” said George. “You think I’d take her on if she was?”
“But what I don’t want is someone drawing unfavorable—”
“Look, it’s simple. Kayla just likes fancy clothes, luxury high-rises, expensive jewelry and great cars; that kinda’ crap. But she doesn’t have the patience to wait until she can afford them, so she got in over her head. That’s why she came to me. I’ve got a reputation for paying my girls real quick, in hard, cold cash.” He smiled wide. “All they have to do is go topless and clean a few lousy homes that don’t really need it, if you get my drift. And for that little bit of work, they get to keep half of what I charge the clients, and keep any tips they make for themselves.”
“How commendable,” he muttered, deciding to slug him if he asked him to invest in his business. “But I‘d like someone with a little sexual savvy. The last thing I want is to go to bed with a naïve, wild-eyed innocent who still believes in romance and love, for God’s sake. What I’m offering is a business proposition, period. I don’t want anyone with illusions about what they’re getting into.”
His eyes clouded as he remembered that overcast day in the spring of his junior year. Remember, son, his father had said, walking out of the garage, zipping up his pants after he’d screwed the girl Bob had thought he loved, confusing love with romance is dangerous. It’s how women trap men.
George grinned as he opened a drawer and slid a couple of glossy eight-by-tens over the desk. “Look at this girl. Just look! I haven’t even sent her out on a job yet. I’ve been looking for just the right client so as not to scare her off. My point is, she’s not familiar with the rules. Usually, I don’t allow any funny business. No hanky-panky. But Kayla doesn’t know that. So let me send her over to your place and you feel her up a little. She won’t know you can’t. She’ll think it’s just part of the job.” He leaned back. “If you tried any of that crap with any of those girls you’ve been leering at, you’d get your face slapped, and hard. However, I’ll let you have Kayla on one condition. If you decide on her, I get a generous finder’s fee of five hundred and fifty bucks.”
“Are you out of your mind? Do you know what you’re…” Bob stilled as he looked down at the picture of the blonde. Her peaches and cream complexion in her heart-shaped face was flawless. But, although her pink lips were smiling, the smile didn’t extend to her large brown eyes, which seemed to be drilling holes in the camera lens. Challengingly. If there was one thing he loved, it was conquering challenges; meeting them head-on. Especially if the challenge came from an attractive, shapely young woman. Like this one.
He could easily imagine getting behind her, holding her close to him despite her resistance while one hand cupped a firm breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb while he ran his other hand into black silk panties. He’d rub her clitoris slowly while lightly nipping her silken neck and shoulders until he felt her pelvis tilt in anticipation of its climax. Then, he’d spin her around, kiss the hell out of those luscious breasts of hers, then ease her down over his knees, licking that firm ass of hers, then spanking her for being such a naughty girl; for making him want her like he did.
As his eyes continued traveling down past her golden, fashionably cut shoulder-length hair, which looked wind-blown and sexy as hell, he zeroed in on her thrusting breasts, and his penis stretched in approval. God, he was hard as a rock, wanting to wedge his penis into her, fucking her senseless with his lips firmly fastened on those pert nipples.
Damn! She was built, just like good old George’d promised! Her firm breasts were a good six inches larger than her tiny waist, and those long skinny legs of hers were a turn-on. He could easily imagine them around him, squeezing hard as he pumped her, feeling her clamp that tight little vagina around his throbbing penis.
“How much for the night?” he croaked hoarsely, then quickly cleared his throat. “A hundred? Two? Keep in mind this’ll just be a test. If there’s not the right chemistry; if she’s too stand-offish, too shy, too slow, I’ll have to try someone else. I can’t afford to waste time on someone not right for the job.”
George raised his brows, with a rueful expression on his craggy face. “After all this time you don’t know how much I charge? I’m crushed, Bob. Just crushed. But don’t worry about the damned fee. Not tonight. If you like her, and decide she’s the one for what you’ve got in mind, just give me the seven hundred we agreed on. That’s it. No added charges.”
Bob choked on his coffee. “We agreed on five hundred and fifty.”
“Price just went up. Take it or leave it.”
Draining his coffee while George answered the phone, Bob remembered his late aunt. If it wasn’t for her and her stupid will, he wouldn’t be in this mess. But despite her being a spinster, she was one hip broad who didn’t miss a trick. For one so old (she had been at least fifty) she’d had great eye-sight. He remembered spending the day with her when he was six. Because he liked her so much, and wanted her to like him, he also wanted to get along with her kitty, Tabitha, a huge Siamese. A sweet-natured kid, he’d softly petted her silky fur, cooing to her in what he thought was a sweet voice, telling her how pretty she was, and how smart. While it surprised him she growled instead of meowing like a normal cat, he’d taken it in stride. They were, after all, in New England. Maybe, he reasoned, cats just spoke differently clear up here.
At first, Aunt Hortense had watched him skeptically, then she’d relaxed as the cat stopped swishing her tail with her ears pinned back. It was all right with him that she watched them so carefully. He was a stranger here and not familiar with their customs and things. But when his aunt went to turn off the kettle in the kitchen, he decided maybe Tabitha wanted to play; and that’s when the trouble began.
He had no idea how territorial cats are about their possessions, so when he reached into the big bag of colorful yarn and threw a ball of bright red under the kitty’s nose, he was surprised when Tabitha reared back, pinned her ears back again, bared her fangs, and spit at him with narrowed green eyes. The way she started growling too, startled him, since it was deeper than her growls earlier, and was continuous.
“How are you and Tabitha getting along?” called his aunt from the kitchen. “Everything still okay?”
“Sure,” he shouted, jumping back as Tabitha lunged straight for him, jumping up on him, then chasing him to the fireplace, where he had no choice but to climb the unevenly-spaced bricks, hanging onto the mantle for dear life as the cat paced back and forth on the hearth, her eyes glued on him.
“What the heck?” screeched his aunt, nearly dropping her silver tray laden down with steaming tea and sweet-smelling treats, as she rushed to pick up her kitty and comfort her. “Why are you scaring Tabitha?” she demanded. “Get down from there, this minute!” Although he was bewildered by her thinking he was scaring her cat instead of the other way around, he obediently jumped down. His aunt calmed down and he drank his tea beside her and studied the cat. She was one cunning creature, acting loveable and purring when Aunt Hortense was around, then turning into a spoiled little monster when her back was turned. Well, two could play at that game, he decided, waiting for his chance to get even.
It didn’t take long for him to get it.
When his aunt answered the phone, talking to whoever it was, with her back turned to him, he had seen his chance to get back at Tabitha, who was now asleep. Grabbing the cat before she could react, he stuck her deep in his aunt’s knitting bag, burying her under the numerous balls of colorful yarn.
Unfortunately, the cat was quick too, and, before he knew it, balls of yarn exploded from the bag, bouncing helter-skelter across the floor as the cat shot out of the bag, shaking itself out of the offending yarn, then looked around. But Bob didn’t give her the chance to get even, and instead took off, running as fast as he could…careening head first against Aunt Hortense’s legs. Continuing on with her conversation and without looking, Aunt Hortense literally seemed to jump across the room, swinging a strong arm, to slap some manners into him. After that, Aunt Hortense never asked him to spend time with her again.
“Deal?” asked George, hanging up the phone. “Or not?”
Bob nodded. “Hell, yes. If I don’t produce a child, the money goes to build a damn orphanage for stray cats. The site’s already been picked right beside the park of my own subdivision. That’s to punish me, I’m sure, if I don’t do what she wanted. I’ll have to either look at it every time I go in go in or out, or move away. Something I’m not about to do.”
George’s eyes widened. Then he laughed. “Oh, boy! Does she have it in for you, or what?”
“I don’t see what’s so damn funny. It’s not like I knew her well. I only saw her a few times when I was a kid...and stayed with her for a few hours once when I was six and again for a couple of days when I had leave while I was in the Army. But, apparently, she remembered me. I think she was impressed in spite of herself. She kept telling me what a handsome young man I’d turned out to be, but how surprised she was that I hadn’t married yet. To insure I would, I think, she made it clear in her will that her lawyers have to interview my ‘wife’ and satisfy themselves everything’s legit. At that point, they’ll advance a quarter of the money. I’ll get the remainder only when my bride gives birth. And if she doesn’t give birth within the year, I have to pay back the damned money they extended. I don’t think she died at this time of year just for spite. But that’s how it’s turned out. It’s already April. If I can’t knock up my new wife by next month, I lose it all. And if she’s as much as a month late, I’ve lost it all too.”
George nodded, studying the calendar with the girly picture on the wall. “Your chosen victim should give birth by Christmas. But since this’ll be her first child, who knows? Some women carry ten months.”
“Exactly, and it’s that kind of risk that scares the hell out of me. I’ve got to get started right away. I can’t afford a woman who might have any reservations about this. She’s got to be willing to do nothing but screw for a while, have my kid and then give me a divorce a few months after the kid’s born. But I’ll make it worth her while. She can even keep the kid.”
Looking absently at his nails, George frowned as if he disapproved of them. “A hell of a lot more money’s involved here than just a few paltry hundred, right?” Bob nodded curtly. What the hell? Why shouldn’t he spill it? He knew
George would find out sooner or later anyway. “Twenty million dollars. That’s what I stand to gain if my plan works. Twenty million beautiful greenbacks!”
George’s face turned so red, Bob was afraid he’d have a heart attack right then and there.
“You can see why this is so important, right?”
“Sure as hell can,” George breathed heavily. “I never knew anyone in your family had that kind of dough. Comes as kind of a shock.”
“Well, hell, it did to me too.”
As George’s secretary came in with papers for him to sign, Bob remembered the first time he and his parents had driven up there for a ‘fun’ family vacation.
It had been his first time to meet his old great aunt on his father’s side. His parents, as usual, were arguing; this time about how much gas they’d need to get back to a town that resembled civilization. He remembered they’d turned onto the long, badly pock-holed graveled drive-way, and had made their way to the huge old house that hid behind some trees, with only its red brick chimney visible. Bob had been fascinated by all the trees that looked like they extended for miles in all directions. He’d wanted to explore them while his parents were talking with his aunt. But they had other plans, and promptly put him between them, keeping him there with his mother’s hand on one shoulder and his father’s hand on his other shoulder. He’d only been four at the time, but he remembered it vividly.
When an ancient-looking, bald-headed man dressed in a tuxedo opened the biggest door Bob had ever seen, he tried hard to escape from his parents and hide in the safety of their car. But when they were led through the longest hallway he’d ever seen and he’d seen the huge old woman with the bright red lips and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen amble toward them, and she had reached down for him with a grin, he had been paralyzed with fear. He’d been so terrified he’d had nightmares for over a week. As George’s secretary left, Bob continued. “When we moved down here from Ohio, when I was ten, I never saw her again, ‘till I was in the Army.” George let out a low whistle. “Yeah? Well, you must’ve made some kinda’ impression on the old broad. So do what you gotta, and don’t worry about anything. You’ve got old George to help you now. Don’t even think about the money for tonight or for however long it takes to convince your chosen victim to go along with your plans. I trust you. And if Kayla proves not to be the right one, try another of my girls. Hell, try ‘em all.”
Reaching into the tall metal cabinet behind him, he grabbed another stack of glossy nudes. “These are duplicates of what you’ve got over there. Take ‘em. Study ‘em. If another girl catches your eye, just call. But,” he grinned, “I trust you’ll be just as generous with me as I am with you. So you’ll understand why my finder’s fee just rose to ten thousand, payable after you get your dough. Hell, I’ll even deduct the seven hundred we agreed on, and which you’ll pay me once you decide who you’ll pick. Hell, who knows, maybe you’ll throw in a little bonus for yours truly too. Not that I’m pressuring you or anything. It’s just a thought. One that’ll keep me patient for as long as it takes you to make up your mind.” He grinned archly. “Just as long as you do it damn quick.”
Standing, getting his keys out of the back pocket of his jeans, Bob ground his teeth.
If there was one thing he hated, it was being out of control. Not only had he received the call from the lawyers at the ungodly hour of seven a.m., he was told, in a voice that sounded like a machine gun firing, about his aunt’s death and the need for him to come to their office the following Thursday. They had refused to reschedule for a more convenient time for him, forcing him to cancel an important meeting with a prospective home buyer who was thinking of using him as their architect. But it seemed in the past two weeks, since great-aunt Hortense’s lawyers had first contacted him, he’d had no control over anything.
“Let’s go with victim number one for starters,” said Bob. “Have Kayla or whatever the hell her name is at my place around seven.” That was one hurdle over with, he thought. Only a few more to go. “But don’t spill my plan. I’m not making an offer until I’ve sampled the merchandise. Let her think this is just a job.”
“Of course, old buddy. Of course! She’ll be wearing a black satin skirt, black lace panties, black hose, spike heels and a smile. Nothing else. So she’ll be real easy to recognize.”
As satisfied as he could be under the circumstances, Bob went out, listening to his friend muttering something unintelligible. Alone, George studied Kayla’s picture. Although she was luscious, she was also, unfortunately, stand-offish. But then she was inexperienced in the ways of the world. Chances were, though, she could be easily bluffed, especially if the lure was money. Not that he’d tell her Bob’s plan, of course. But a few white lies would work wonders, if told in the right way.
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