and she heard his own zipper working. A moment later they were fully embracing.
“Easy,” she said. “Be tender.”
He was, and so was she.
Somewhat to her surprise and much to her delight, he did not immediately enter her. Instead, he parted her vulva with his tongue and lingered there until she insisted he mount her.
They both came that way, then rested for a while. Then she began bringing him back, stroking him first with her fingers, then with her tongue. She would not let go, until he had climaxed again.
They lay under the covers, panting, gradually recovering themselves.
“Did I mention that I have my airplane at Palm Springs Airport?”
“I don’t remember,” she lied.
“Why don’t you and I fly to San Francisco tomorrow for a few days?”
“What a sweet thought,” she said. “Don’t you think it might be a little early in our acquaintance for that sort of trip?”
“I think we just settled that,” he replied.
“But what would I do with my car?”
“Ditch it, if you like; I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “Perhaps I can get someone from the hotel to drive it to Los Angeles, to a friend’s house.”
“That’s good, clear thinking,” he said.
“But you don’t have a place in San Francisco, do you?”
“Not yet, but I know a good hotel.”
“I didn’t bring San Francisco clothes, I’m afraid. I don’t think I can get by with a couple of cotton dresses and a bikini.”
“That’s what shops are for. I think I’d enjoy watching you shop.”
“I think I’d enjoy watching you watching me shop,” she said.
“You’re game, then?”
“That’s the nice thing about being free again,” she said, with more depth of feeling than he knew. “You can do anything you want to.”
“That’s right,” he said. “You can, and so can I.”
“I think doing it together will be fun,” she said.
“I will make it so,” he replied.
BARBARA/ELEANOR DRIFTED OFF to sleep, physically satisfied but very, very curious. She woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of his regular breathing.
She got up, got online and Googled the name Walter Keeler. It took only a moment to find a news report of the sale of his electronics business. She gave a little gasp. His share of the deal had been $2.7 billion!
She was going to have to play this very, very carefully.
10
CUPIE DALTON DROVE over to Venice and, lucky him, found a parking spot. He strolled along the beachfront, taking the sun, his straw porkpie hat keeping the heat off his bald spot. He caught sight of the sign for the photographer’s shop a hundred yards away, knowing from his past encounter with Barbara Eagle that the place was a hotbed of counterfeit document sales. Then he was startled to see the owner, the man he wanted to see, walk out of the shop and start down the sidewalk toward him.
Cupie stepped off the sidewalk and found a spot on a bench, his back to the foot traffic. He waited for a few moments, then hazarded a glance to his right. The photographer was walking briskly, a package under his arm. Cupie watched as he stopped at a mailbox, dropped in the package and started back toward his shop.
Cupie waited until he was certain the man had walked behind him, then he caught sight of him turning into his shop. Good.
Cupie got up, walked down the sidewalk toward the shop and had a peek through the window. The owner’s pretty teenaged daughter was the only person in view. Cupie walked in, straight past the counter, toward the rear office.
“Hey,” the girl shouted, “you can’t go back there. It’s private!”
But Cupie was already back there. He pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the surprisingly large office, filled with computers and copying machines. The owner sat behind his desk. He looked up, registered Cupie and started to get up.
“Relax, my friend,” Cupie said, taking the chair across from him. “This is going to be short and sweet.”
The man said nothing, just