Chapter 9

Standing beneath the hot jets of the shower, washing the remnants of their passion from her body, Beth can't quite believe how she ended up here; can't believe that Rio is in the bathroom upstairs doing exactly the same thing.

So much for not mixing business with pleasure but, damn; that pleasure.

Biting her lip, she steps out of the cubicle and towels herself dry. Running a brush through her hair, she slips on fresh underwear and a pair of forest green pyjamas before donning the kimono and leaving her bedroom. It's not what she wants to be wearing to see Rio off but it's also 01.30am so she's just going to have to suck it up.

There's a twist in her stomach at the thought that he's not staying – having already told her he has other things to do that night – but she dismisses that as a classically female response in the aftermath of sex. It's probably common to go your separate ways after a casual sexual encounter – it's not like she'd have much first-hand experience to draw on.

Padding back down the hall on bare feet, she finds Rio in the sitting room in an arm chair, looking deliciously casual in his black t-shirt and jeans, and he smiles faintly as she walks in and crosses to the liquor cabinet.

"You want one?" she asks, waving a whiskey glass in his direction.

Leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, he replies, "Just a small one; gotta hit the road soon."

Pouring each of them a short glass of the amber liquid, Beth hands one to Rio and then takes a seat on the sofa to his right, curling her feet beneath her and warming the whiskey in her hands before taking the first sip.

"So," says Rio easily, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Grateful to have a relatively neutral topic to land on, she answers, "Annie; she wants to start working for you again."

Nodding he takes a mouthful of his drink and is silent for a moment.

"You know we're in a shut-down, yeah? Ain't that many jobs to go 'round."

Knowing this must be true – that many of his usual crew must be currently out of a job – she considers this before suggesting, "She could help me with the lodgements. We could double the number of bank visits per week and could even use a different bank if you have more than one. Presumably that's not something that you can have just anyone working on?"

He laughs at that and she wants to explain her reasoning but all he says is, "Yeah, you ladies certainly got an edge there."

Thinking it over he finishes off his drink and sets the empty glass down on the coffee table. "Fine. But the same rules apply for her; no more second chances."

And then he's standing up and sliding on his hoody, making sure he has his phone and car keys, before heading for the front door.

Beth walks him the short distance, her pulse picking up speed as she wonders nervously how they'll leave it; will he kiss her or just take off?

She opens the door and stands back saying, "Goodnight, Rio, and thank you," before hastily clarifying, "For taking Annie back on."

Stepping forward he clasps the side of her face with one rough palm and takes her lips in a lingering kiss. There's a new familiarity between their bodies now and what started out as a simple kiss quickly becomes heated.

Pulling back regretfully, Rio murmurs, "Goodnight, Elizabeth," before tripping lightly down the front steps towards his car.

/\/\/\

Taking another bite of her delicious pancake stack, Beth once again fails to hide the smile that won't seem to leave her face as Ruby and Annie look on suspiciously.

"What's up with you?" asks Annie curiously, "You've barely stopped smiling since we got here." ('Here' being their favourite local diner.)

Forcing her features into a more neutral pose Beth replies brightly, "Nothing. I just had a good week, that's all."

"And this good week would have nothing to do with a certain Gang Friend of yours, would it?" asks Ruby sceptically, and it takes all of Beth's willpower not to blush to the roots of her hair.

"No!" she exclaims, "It's just that things have finally settled down in work, and Dean and I have a good routine going with the kids – things are just finally falling into place, you know?"

Knowing that they're not quite convinced she quickly changes track, "And Annie, I spoke to Rio – he's going to let you back in."

Watching the relief on her sisters face, Beth feels bad that she hadn't mentioned this before now – they have been at the diner for almost 45 minutes already – but, honestly, she can barely hold a sensible conversation while the memories of last night are still so fresh in her mind.

Shifting in her seat, she can't help picturing the stark beauty of Rio's naked body, bathed in moonlight and doing sinfully delicious things to her own…

"Hello?! Earth to Beth!"

Annie's voice reaches her through the heated fog, snapping her back to the present.

"Did his highness happen to mention when he'd be needing my services?" Annie asks, her words dripping with amused innuendo, and Beth has to steel herself against the hot flash of jealousy that streaks through her.

"Um, no," she answers quickly, "But the next lodgement is scheduled for Wednesday so it'll probably be then."

Voice dropping, she explains the format for deliveries and lodgements and notes, "I guess they'll deliver to you at work – I'm sure whoever does the drop off for Fine 'n Frugal' can double up for you."

As Annie and Ruby began to discuss the logistics, Beth's mind wonders again to the previous night. She's bursting to share the news, particularly with Ruby, but something is holding her back – telling her to keep this information to herself. Because to expose it to the cold light of day might be to destroy it, before it has even begun.

Besides, she wouldn't know what to say about it anyway. She has no idea what this thing that they have started is – only what it's not; what it can never be.

And admitting that to her closest friends isn't something that she's ready to do.

/\/\/\

When the doorbell chimes unexpectedly that afternoon, Beth can't suppress the tiny flicker of hope that it will be Rio waiting on her porch, even as she recognises how unlikely it is that he would actually ring the doorbell.

Pulling the door open, she is surprised and then confused to see a deliveryman holding a large bouquet of beautiful white roses.

Feeling an odd lurch in her chest, she mentally shuts down any flicker of expectation as the man enquires, "Elizabeth Boland?"

He barely waits for her nod before continuing, "Please sign here."

Scrawling her name across the screen that he holds in her direction, Beth takes the cardboard box that has acted as a temporary vase for the roses and closes the front door, bringing the flowers into the kitchen for further inspection.

There's a small white card embedded within the bouquet and she lifts it hesitantly, unsure of what she might find written there.

Recognising Rio's neat cursive, she reads:

Be at the Bloomfield Hills Country Club tonight at 8.
Bring the gift and wear something sexy.

Reading and rereading the message a few more times, her focus shifts to the box containing the flowers. Lifting the delicate stalks from their packaging, she peers inside the would-be empty box and spots the neat stacks of $100 bills at the bottom, protected by a thick plastic wrapping.

Of course, she thinks, just another delivery. Trying to ignore the quick stab of emotion that flares within her at the realisation, she turns towards the sink and selects an appropriate vase on autopilot. What else would it have been?

But even as she asks herself this, she's carrying the beautiful flowers past the waiting vase on the counter and dumping them in the garbage can.

/\/\/\

Stepping through the ornate double doors and into the Bloomfield Hills Country Club, Beth can't shake the vague feeling of unease that always accompanies her in places such as this one. It is an elitist haven for the one percenters - not somewhere Beth has ever belonged, despite being a previous membership of the Club.

It had been Dean that had signed them up a number of years ago. It was supposed to help the business but, in reality, Beth knew that he enjoyed this lifestyle – the golf and drinks with his buddies, but also the elitism that surrounded it.

"Mrs Boland, how lovely to see you this evening," greeted the butler warmly, and Beth's smile was genuine as she swept past him into the bar.

One quick scan tells her that Rio's not there yet.

Walking to the bar, aware of the eyes that follow her figure in the midnight blue cocktail dress and matching heels, she orders a Bourbon on the rocks and take a seat. A glance at her phone displays no messages from Rio and she settles in to wait, making sure that the luxury shopping bag at her feet, containing $100,000 in cash, is safe.

Taking a sip of her drink, she tries to calm the butterflies in her stomach that take flight every time she pictures the meeting with Rio this evening. She has no idea what she's doing here – and she does find it extremely odd that he would send her money and then direct her to bring it to him, and here of all places – but there's an undeniable excitement buzzing in her veins at the thought of seeing him again, so soon after last night.

Her phone flashes on the bar in front of her and it's a message from Rio. It takes her a moment to understand what she's looking at as a picture appears of an older man, perhaps in his sixties, alongside some text that reads "Find him at the bar and make the drop."

Glancing around Beth quickly identified the man from the picture, sitting alone on a couch to the side of the room, scanning the crowd as if waiting for someone. He is wearing a cream suit that is several sizes too small, emphasising the extra weight that he's carrying around his middle.

Sighing, Beth knocks back what's left of her drink as she gathers her purse and the luxury shopping bag and makes her way towards him.

He watches her approach with an unhidden leer and Beth has to work to keep the smile on her face as she takes a seat on the sofa next to him, making sure to place the shopping bag down on the floor in between them.

"Good evening," he drawls, scooting towards her, so that his knee is almost brushing her own, "You're not who I was expecting."

Checking the urge to tug the hem of her dress further down her thighs, Beth laughs through gritted teeth and assures him, "You and me both!"

Wanting to get this over with, she indicates towards the bag at their feet and says quietly, "A gift, from a mutual friend."

Before she knows what's happening there's a clammy hand on her bare thigh and a leering voice whispering in her ear, "He's a very generous man."

Shock immobilises her for the briefest moment and then she's standing before him, purse clutched rigidly in her palm as she fights to keep from slapping his shiny, red face, and she hisses, "Not that generous."

But as she sweeps through the bar with a show of calm that bellies the white-hot fire of her anger, she can't help but wonder.

And, just as quickly, the fire in her veins is turned to ice.

/\/\/\

She knew he would come. When she had ignored each of the two text messages and three phone calls from him, she knew he would come. But she hadn't expected it to be so soon.

She is just out of a scalding hot shower, wrapped in a bathrobe and dragging a brush through her wet hair, when she hears a sound behind her and there he is; one shoulder propped against the bedroom doorframe, his arms folded comfortably across his chest, standing there as if he had been for the last five minutes.

Loath to face him in such a state of undress, to be at any kind of disadvantage when talking to him, she considers kicking him out of the room while she locates some clothing. But then she's damned if she's going to show any sign of weakness.

Placing the brush down calmly on the vanity, she turns to face him, fighting the urge to close the dressing gown more tightly around herself, and simply waits for him to speak.

"I see you haven't lost your phone," he says, voice deceptively calm, as he nods to where it lies discarded on the bedspread. "So, you want to explain to me what's goin' on?"

The silence stretches taught between them.

And then she tells him, the quiet strength of her words sinking like stones into the void, "I am not for sale, Rio."

Pushing upright in one fluid movement, his anger and his voice rising in tandem as he stalks towards her, he barks, "Excuse me?!"

The injustice of his anger serves as tinder to the gasoline of her own fury and she's almost shouting as she splutters, "'Wear something sexy'?!Despite the impression that last night may have given you, I – am – not – for – sale!"

For an unguarded instant he looks as if she has slapped him.

But then the shutters are coming down and he asks her quietly, too quietly, "What happened?"

Something about his demeanour is telling her she has this all wrong but she's too angry and too hurt to care.

"What was supposed to happen? You thought that I'd go there, give him your "gift" and that I'd be the bow on top?"

"What happened, Elizabeth?"

The menace in his voice cuts through the haze of anger driving her – that cool threat of bodily harm directed not at her but at anyone that might dare to lay a finger on her – and then she has her answer.

The relief that floods though her at the realisation of his innocence is immense. And all at once she feels silly that she ever thought otherwise, knowing that her reaction and the conclusions that she jumped to had likely been influenced by other factors. Although what exactly those factors are, she is in no rush to analyse.

Dropping her eyes from the blazing anger in his, she murmurs, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Rio is silent for a moment and then he says seriously, "Look, I ain't no saint. But I ain't no pimp neither. And what I said, about wearing somethin' sexy? I just thought the meeting would be less conspicuous that way."

When she doesn't say anything, he closes the small distance between them and reaches out to tilt her chin up so that she's once again looking him in the eye as he asks her softly, "Darlin', do I strike you as the kind of man that likes to share?"

It hadn't been meant as a come on, she knows that. But suddenly she's finding it hard to breathe – the air around her thick with remembered passion – and there's this heat rising in Rio's eyes that might just consume her whole.

"Elizabeth–"

His reluctant protest is muffled against her lips as she kisses him, nipping at his mouth until his tongue sweeps out to meet her own, and then he's taking control of the kiss; pushing her backwards against the vanity, his left-hand fisting in her hair as his right slips between their bodies to tug at the thick belt of her dressing gown.

The belt gives way and his palm is sweeping up her waist to mould the soft flesh of her breast and to tease the sensitive thrust of her nipple, already taut and ready for his mouth as it leaves hers to trail down her throat and the slope of her breast before fastening over one engorged peak. Beth moans softly as he draws the flesh between his teeth and sucks sharply, just as one denim clad thigh is pushed between her own and her hips undulate against him, begging for more.

She almost blacks out with pleasure when he cups her slick heat in his hand and slides two fingers inside her. Her hoarse cry is muffled against his mouth as he takes her lips again, his wicked fingers moving inside her in a sensual imitation that is at once too much to bear and yet nowhere near enough. And, just as she's riding the final crest of the wave that will take her over, he moves with her, guiding her back towards the bed until she hits the edge and then she's falling, sprawling on to her back, legs dangling over the side where he comes to a stop between them.

Watching the hunger on his face through hooded eyes Beth almost jumps out of her skin as he drops to his knees in front of her, his calloused palms spreading her thighs open before him, murmuring, "I want to taste you."

Then she's seeing stars as he closes his mouth over her, his tongue working expertly against her clit to create such an overpowering flood of pleasure that she is sure can't bear even another second of it. "Rio," her gasp is ragged, "I can't…"

Whatever she is going to say is lost in a scream as his teeth scrape bluntly across the bundle of nerves at her core and a climax rips through her.

Coming back down to earth, her veins are still buzzing with delicious aftershocks moments later as she watches Rio kick off his shoes and join her on the bed with a self-satisfied smile.

Rising onto her knees on the bedspread, she reaches up to capture his mouth in a kiss, tasting the musk of her body on his tongue, and heat pools low in her abdomen.

Already impatient for more, she moves to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers, casting the garment carelessly aside to expose the muscled expanse of tattooed skin across his torso and that deliciously inviting trail down his abdomen, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. Placing small, open-mouthed kisses across his chest she fumbles with the snap of his jeans and revels in the sound of his breathless laughter as he helps her to remove the final barrier of his clothing.

And then he's coming back to her, placing one warm hand against her chest as he gently pushes her back down against the bedspread, before covering her soft, alabaster body with the hard, honeyed planes of his own. She goes willingly, reaching up to pull his mouth down to hers for a fevered kiss as she undulates against him, rubbing the slick heat between her thighs against the heavy press of his erection; demanding more.

Rio's harsh groan seems torn from him as he sinks the hard thrust of his cock into her, slowly at first and then deliciously harder and faster as they give themselves over to the raw sensuality of the moment, holding nothing back as they move together, in beautiful, sinful synchronicity.

His face is bent towards her, kissing her with an unrestrained passion, as her pleasure starts to spin out of control. But then he's drawing back to look down at her, bracing his weight on the elbows bracketing her head, as he continues to move inside her with an increased urgency that signals his own impending release.

Caught in the dark intensity of his gaze, Beth holds his eye as their bodies strain towards the final peak.

But suddenly the intensity of the moment is too much to bear – the impossible, aching intimacy of it – and she squeezes her eyes shut against the world as it dissolves around her.

/\/\/\

Coming to in a delicious tangle of warm limbs, Beth allows herself one bittersweet moment to bask in it; the heavy press of his weight against her, the warm fan of his breath on her neck, and the suddenly shocking intimacy of his spent body inside her own.

Then she's slipping away from the him, leaving the false comfort of his arms for the chilled confines of the bathroom, telling herself that she simply wants to get cleaned up, that's all.

But it's Ruby's voice in her head, telling her like it is.

Girl, you are in so much trouble.