P I Honeytrap Read online

  ‘Oh please, Reuben. Don’t you want to explode? Like right now?’

  That did it. He pushed her hand aside, took his weapon to hand, and worked it up to the entrance of her tunnel. He thrust his hips minutely forward, opening her to his onslaught. Then froze. Barely inside her.

  Hayley lifted her own hips off the bench and pushed up towards him, trying to force him to advance further. Each thrust upwards was matched by a withdrawal from Reuben. The friction at the entrance to her vagina with their little game had her tilted on her axis, ready for the fall into oblivion. She wasn’t breathing.

  Reuben looked down into her eyes. His were dilated with arousal.

  Why was he holding out on her? ‘Fuck me, Reuben. All the way. I need you to fuck me hard. Reuben?’

  ‘Like this, Hayley?’ He gave a powerful thrust, sheathing himself fully inside her.

  The first ripples of muscular activity began instantly inside her vagina. ‘Again, Reuben.’ Her voice was so high, so tight, it was unrecognisable.

  He withdrew and thrust long, deep, and hard for a second time.

  ‘Oh. Yes, yes. Again. I’m coming.’

  She would have come then anyway but it was so much more satisfying with a cock inside her as she shattered. She loved to feel the gripping of her muscles on hot, hard, solid flesh as her orgasm rushed headlong at her, pushing her over the cliff face into freefall.

  Reuben must have realised he couldn’t hold her back any longer as he gave up his teasing games and thrust rhythmically inside her, faster and faster until her moans turned to higher pitched yelps and erupted in one long wail as the orgasm ratcheted through her entire body. Each muscle Reuben had earlier massaged to relaxation was now as rigid as a raft. Her skin as tight as that on a drum.

  She threw her arms around him and held on as each thrust returned wrung a bellow from Reuben’s lungs until he tightened and let the jet of salty come explode from his body into hers.

  They locked their hips together and ground against each other, as each wave of the aftershock consumed them and tortured them with its gradually fading power surge. Hayley collapsed sated beneath him, not caring that the dead weight of his considerable body was pressing her into the bench. She couldn’t breathe anyway.

  They lay together for a while, riding the ecstasy until it subsided enough for Reuben to withdraw from Hayley’s body. He reared up, looking down on her. Then he moved forward to kiss her. She turned her face so his lips grazed the skin at her jaw. She heard the hurt murmur of acknowledgement at the rejection, quickly suppressed.

  Maybe he just forgot but he knew the score by now. It irritated her that he would even try. He could touch her and lick her and fuck her. But he couldn’t kiss her. She didn’t need to tell him and he didn’t force the issue. He knew better than to ask her why.

  Perhaps he’d already worked out why. Was she that obvious? But that was the deal. She would get together with Reuben for a good, no-holds-barred fucking, as long as it suited them both. And it did seem to suit them both, so why change things? No questions asked. She had no intention of becoming emotionally involved with him. No man was ever going to have that power over her again.

  Suddenly she felt uncomfortable being here. She pushed Reuben off her and he complied, rolling to one side and getting to his feet.

  ‘Are you OK?’ He sounded genuinely concerned.

  God, she hoped he wasn’t going to start going all guilt-trip on her. ‘Fine. I had a good time. Now I’m going home.’ No point giving the guy any ideas. They both knew she’d be back soon enough.

  He passed her a big towel and she wrapped it around herself as she rose. It was as if she couldn’t bear him to see her naked now. And he’d just touched her everywhere his fingers could reach. She’d just fucked the guy. But it wasn’t her body she wasn’t comfortable revealing.

  Reuben certainly wasn’t uncomfortable with his either. He walked around her, fully exposed, as he wiped his oily hands and stomach on a towel.

  ‘We’d better go take a shower, before we get oil on everything,’ he said.

  We? He’d better not go thinking there was any we. She came here to work out. And to get a physical from him. OK? They both knew the score. But that was all it was. Although Reuben wasn’t a lowlife, like the ones she came across in her working day, he was a man. And she didn’t have time for any of them …

  Suddenly Hayley became aware of the voice on the far side of her daydream. The young woman across the desk was sniffing a lot and had a whole heap of wet Kleenex bunched up in her hand.

  ‘So that’s why I need to hire you, to check things out.’

  Hayley trawled through her brain to dredge up any snatches of the woman’s story she could recall hearing amongst her recollections of last night’s lust with Reuben. She pieced together the puzzle, but thought she ought to check she’d got it straight.

  ‘So let me just see if I’ve got this right. You say you’ve been married for nearly a year?’

  ‘That’s right, and if he’s going off with other women already –’ Mrs Smith started sniffing again.

  Hayley ignored the tears and continued. ‘You’ve noticed money going out of your joint bank account that you can’t explain and he won’t try to. But he knows you know about it?’

  ‘I think I must have married a mean man. But I love him.’

  Hayley resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the weeping started anew. She pushed the box of Kleenex further over the desk top again. Where did all those tears come from? She’d be damned if she’d waste her tears on any worthless male.

  ‘OK. And he’s acting weird all of a sudden, you say.’

  ‘Like he’s found the love of his life. All happy and excited. Just like when we first met. But he’s got no cause for it. It’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.’

  Clearly she wanted to be. The fresh cloudburst just proved that.

  ‘And your cousin told you she thought she saw him at the shopping mall in town, when he was supposed to be at work?’

  ‘He must have been waiting for some woman. Or buying new clothes to go out with her.’

  ‘Have you seen these new clothes?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘OK. I think I’ve got it.’ Hayley could see Mrs Smith was a pretty wee thing. Although that didn’t stop men straying, she knew that. That one, you could take for granted. She couldn’t believe the number of times she had discovered husbands cheating on beautiful, intelligent, attractive women, with someone who couldn’t hold a candle to them. But there was no figuring out most men. And she wouldn’t even try. But that wasn’t this. She’d stake her reputation on it.

  ‘Now listen to me, Mrs Smith …’

  ‘You’ll take my case?’ the young woman interrupted.

  ‘Have you come to me because you believe I know what I’m talking about?’

  Mrs Smith nodded. ‘You come highly recommended.’

  Hayley could just see it. Someone who had genuine reasons to use her services, pushing this poor young woman to think it was the same for her. Hayley might not have much time for men personally, but she wasn’t about to help all women to lose the faith. ‘Your husband is as in love with you as ever.’

  Mrs Smith looked incredulous. As if her prospective personal investigator had just deliberately thrown a wheel as an exaggerated way to bring a runaway vehicle to a halt. It made Hayley want to laugh. ‘I want you to wait until your anniversary before you do anything. It is my belief that your crazy-in-love – with you –’ she hastened to add ‘– husband, has been planning a secret anniversary surprise. To show how much he adores you.’

  Mrs Smith blinked and wiped her eyes. That stopped the tears. ‘You think so?’

  Hayley could see the idea certainly appealed. ‘It would certainly fit the profile. More than any other explanation.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  Clearly her prospective client – soon to be ex-client – was having a little trouble grasping the notion that she wasn’t about to be
dumped on. ‘I do.’ Hayley saw the wry humour in her words.

  ‘I never thought of that.’

  ‘You were too close. It needs a bit of distance to weigh the facts. Sometimes it takes a while to get to know a man enough to know if you can really trust them.’ Hayley knew what she was talking about. You generally couldn’t.

  ‘I’ve jumped the gun, haven’t I?’ Mrs Smith, or whatever her real name was, looked a little sheepish.

  Hayley presumed, having shone a new light on the situation, the young woman was starting to see a better explanation for all the strange little circumstances. One which certainly seemed to please her more than the old one. If it was true.

  She wasn’t totally won over yet. ‘But what if you’re wrong?’

  ‘Then you just come right back down to see me, honey, and we’ll nail the lying, cheating, two-timing rat.’ That did it.

  Mrs Smith couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. She looked affronted to think anybody might refer to her darling husband in such derogatory terms. Hayley knew she wouldn’t be seeing her again. Not over this marriage anyway. At least for a while.

  Her own cynicism struck her. As did the fact that she had just talked herself out of another big investigation fee. But what the hell; she had enough clients not to worry about that. And enough sorry-arsed cheaters out there to stop the well ever running dry.

  Hayley threw the paperwork into the tray, ready for her assistant to file away in the morning. She had a whole heap of things to get through before she went out on her honeytrap assignment tonight, not least of which was familiarising herself with the next two-timing bastard she was about to fuck. Up.

  Chapter Two

  ‘We all set up?’ Hayley spoke to her field assistant, Paolo, in the front of the unmarked van.

  ‘The cameras are in place in the guy’s favourite hotel, boss,’ he reported. ‘I’ve paid the receptionist off so she’ll check him into the room we’ve bugged, if he takes the bait.’

  ‘The client says her husband told her he’s working late on a contract. She thinks otherwise. Sounds like we’re good to go.’

  Hayley’s team had already worked a couple of weeks on the Tanner case. She recalled what she knew. Pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. Husband a big-shot advertising executive. Married eight years. Two kids. It was always the kids she had most sympathy for, but the wives needed evidence to secure their divorce settlement. And, she guessed, they liked the revenge too. Rather than their philandering husbands getting one over on them, they got one over on him. She appreciated the justice in that.

  ‘The surveillance photographs of the guy meeting women in a bar, weren’t enough then?’ Paolo asked.

  ‘His wife says he’ll talk his way out of it. Get any divorce judge to believe he was doing it for business. As in having dinner with a client. Paint her as neurotic, unreasonable. And she’s worried he’d get custody of the children.’ It was always their biggest concern. A brief echo of her own childhood sent a shiver up her spine.

  Hayley knew the deal. Men who do this to their family could lie for Olympic gold. It ground a woman’s self-esteem into the dirt. She thought fleetingly of her own mother.

  ‘We’re not about to let that happen, Paolo.’ She tapped the recording equipment. ‘Irrefutable evidence. And always the same hotel, huh?’ Her sneer made Paolo grin. Creatures of habit, most of these philanderers were simply begging to get caught. Hayley liked nothing better than being the one to catch them.

  Tonight called for the full service package.

  Looking into the mirror, she put the last touches to her cosmetics. She knew the look this guy went for and created it as much as she could. Tonight that meant false everything. Eyelashes, push-up padded bra, short skirt, low-cut blouse, big hair. And in Hayley’s case especially, a false smile.

  She caught Paolo still smirking beside her.

  ‘And you can wipe that off your face,’ she barked. ‘Unless you want to be walking with your legs crossed for a week.’

  ‘Hell, boss. You know I’m on your side.’

  Now it was Hayley who snorted as Paolo went pale and put his hands down over his treasures. Men never took chances where their nuts were concerned, she reckoned. It was always her first line of defence.

  Paolo was driving the van with the technical recording equipment. She couldn’t have driven in these heels anyway. He was going to leave her at the bar and park up outside the hotel ready.

  ‘If the plans change, I’ll call you. Are Marty and Alice in place?’

  ‘The back-up team are having a drink in the guy’s favourite bar as we speak, boss. They called ten minutes back to say he arrived. Sitting in his usual spot, looking to score. He’s had one knock-back already.’

  ‘Then you’d better get your foot down. I wouldn’t want to be pipped at the post and have to scratch some poor girl’s eyes out to get my claws into sonny boy.’

  Paolo chuckled. He must know her too well. She’d do it too, to get her man and the job done. They pulled into the car park, out of any customer line of sight, and Hayley hopped out.

  ‘See you later. And try not to enjoy the show too much.’ There was no way around it. If he filmed her, he could watch her performing with the guy. But Paolo was a good kid, for a guy. Just 23. Not too much to worry about there. She’d seen to that.

  ‘I’ll be reading my course notes, boss,’ he lied. ‘Not watching you working.’ She was putting Paolo through college. Hayley knew the education he got working for her was broader than any book learning but he would never talk about what he saw. To her or to anyone.

  ‘You do that. I’ll be testing you on what you’ve learnt tomorrow.’

  They laughed. It was the way they always signed off. Relieved the tension for both of them, somehow.

  Hayley stepped through the wine bar door and became her current persona, Robyn. She always named them, then it wasn’t really her. It was dark inside the bar. She spotted her target up at the counter over to her right and headed left.

  Hayley had Robyn all worked out, based on the guy’s known preferences. She shimmied onto a barstool, letting her skirt ride up her smooth naked thighs. The bartender came over immediately and smiled knowingly at her, looking down her cleavage from above. It was that sort of a place. Where everyone knew single women came in looking to get laid. Hayley resisted the urge to shove the bar cloth down his grinning throat and purred her order.

  ‘Vodka Martini. And whatever you’re having.’ She wanted it to look like she was looking for company.

  She fiddled with the beer mat, turning it in her long, scarlet false nails, watching her drink poured and taking note of Andy Tanner out of the corner of her eye. He was interested already. She glanced across and smiled. Then looked away. The bartender returned with her drink and she gave him an even bigger smile. She put a hand softly on his forearm and whispered to him.

  A little decoy flirting gave out the right message and guys like Tanner responded to the spirit of competition. Guys were really cavemen at heart. They actually wanted to fight over women. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall and nearly didn’t recognise the reflection as hers.

  Wow. Hot, horny chick. Ready for bed.

  A sudden voice in her ear told her Tanner thought so too. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’

  ‘I just got one, thanks.’ He looked a little crestfallen. ‘But you can watch me drink it if you like.’ Hayley said it like she’d given him permission to watch her masturbate.

  His shoulders went back again as he pulled up a bar stool then held out a hand. ‘Andy Tanner.’

  She supressed the urge to say “I know”. Hayley took his hand in her fingers. More flirting. ‘Robyn.’ A woman like Robyn, probably married and out for a little no-strings-attached sex, wouldn’t want to share her last name. An arrogant bastard like Tanner wouldn’t care who she was anyway. Would never believe for a minute that he was going to get roasted.

  ‘Well, Robyn. It’s nice to meet you.’

  ‘It
’s nice to meet you too Andy.’ Slowly. Let him think he’s calling the shots. She had all the intelligence she needed, including his preferences in the sack. At least as far as his wife knew. Her experience told her some wives often didn’t know their husbands in that department, much at all.

  ‘I haven’t seen you in here before, have I?’ he said. Tanner took up where the bartender left off, looking down the front of her blouse.

  God, what a cheesy line. And he was supposed to be some hot-shot advertising executive. But around sexy women, guys’ brains, when they were out on the hunt, often turned to mush. Unlike their cocks. Lucky for her. Easier targets that way.

  ‘That could be because I haven’t been here before.’ Hayley laughed throatily. She took a long drink of her Martini and set it on the bar, playing with the swizzle stick, running the tips of her fingers up and down it, like she was caressing an erect cock in need of her soothing touch. The way Tanner’s eyes were fixed on her actions, she knew he was imagining her doing the same to his own erection. Hayley was absolutely certain his cock was already up and ready for action. Guys were so predictable. They waited barely long enough to avoid being seen as sexual predators before they went in for the kill. ‘I’m on my own in town, visiting an elderly aunt. But she likes to go to bed early.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ Tanner quipped.

  In the bag. Hayley swatted him playfully for his crude joke, which she laughed at. Of course. She left her fingers on his sleeve, giving him a good look at the suntan line she’d faked, left by the removal of her imaginary wedding ring. Cheating men looked for that kind of thing. Private investigators too. He had a matching one.

  ‘You’re a naughty boy, Mr Tanner.’ She smiled, watching him focus on her red lips and whitened teeth. ‘It’s hours until bedtime yet.’

  Tanner laughed. His voice lowered conspiratorially. ‘That depends how badly you’re in need of an early night. But plenty of time for a few more drinks.’ He signalled to the bartender to set up another round.

  She saw the bartender smirk. Tanner would no doubt believe it was because he was giving silent applause to a fellow hunter who had bagged himself some prime game. Hayley was rather more inclined to believe it was because the first thing she had whispered to the bartender was that he was to make all her drinks non-alcoholic, faking the real McCoy. She had slipped him hard cash, chargeable to her client’s account, to ensure it was their little secret. That made her smile too, thinking that it was Tanner’s own money paying for his ultimate demise. The creep deserved it.