Polly Want a Secret?

"Darling, it'syour secret life. All I do is facilitate and assist." His hand ran stealthily down her torso, stroking her firm belly, pushing her thighs apart and diving into her sex. His expert touch made the young woman moan softly and then, as he stroked her clitoris with one finger and her G-spot with another, to whimper in delight. Shirley had been right. Jefferson Biggswellwas a great lover. He nibbled her ears, played her body like a violin and brought her to orgasm after crashing orgasm until she pleaded for relief. They stood up in the tub and he soaped and rinsed both of them and then dried off with the thickest towels Polly had ever seen. She took her mask off and he picked her up and carried her to the king-sized bed.

Once again ultra-violet light flooded the room turning Polly Marks back into Youvie. She looked up at Biggswell, held out her arms and opened her knees. His broad, white smile shone in the light as brightly as the tattoos on her body as he settled between her thighs, bit gently on her earlobe and took her.

So. Big! The large man began to thrust in and out keeping up a steady rhythm Polly suspected he could keep up half the night.Shirley was right. One night with this man won't be enough. Didn't she say Stevie wouldn't be home until the seventh? That gives me a week of this. Oh dear lord, if I'd known how my secret life was going to go I'd never have signed that thing. Good thing I didn't know. Mmmm, one man for love and one for—this!

The next morning found Polly spooned tightly against Biggswell's chest when the hotel phone gave a discreet jingle. Jefferson grabbed and snarled into the mouthpiece, "This better be important! What? You're sure? Damn! Okay, in the restaurant in half an hour!"

He turned to his new lover, "Honey, I'm terribly sorry. I hoped to show you my hospitality for at least a few more days but something has come up that could threaten you. And I promised in that contract to protect you from any and all physical harm or abuse so the best thing you can do now is go home. The threat to you isn't great, I suspect, but I will allow no risk at all. I'll call Shirley to keep you company and send up for room service. But now I must go downstairs and see that this threat disappears—one way or another!"

Twenty minutes later Shirley and Polly sat at one of the tables in the suite enjoying chicory coffee with hot milk and fabulous hot beignets. Outside the door stood a silent massive man with a shoulder holster under his suit coat.

"So I have to leave?" Polly's question was plaintive.

"Dear, Biggsy says you may be in danger. Believe him. He has the best intelligence network in the city. I don't know how it could be but neither he nor I will take any chances. As soon as you're packed up again, Jamal will take us back to the airport and we will go home. However, according to his schedule, you will be back with him again at New Year's—in Miami, in fact."

"New Year's? But how will I get away for . . . ."

"Polly, right after Christmas, Stevie will get a phone call demanding that he fly at once to Honolulu where one of the company's best customers is setting up a small, exclusive plant to jacquard weave cloth for the most upscale and expensive of aloha shirts and pareos. He will be gone at least a week. Don't ask how I know. And here's an envelope with your tips from last night. There's about twelve thousand dollars in it. Now, all packed? Let's go."

*****

In a secluded booth in the hotel dining room, Mr. Biggswell set down his coffee cup, shook his head at the waiter with a carafe, dabbed his lips with the linen napkin and set it aside. He looked at the scarred, dangerous man across from him.

"Now, Albert, I want the entire story and I hope it's a good one. That young lady is special in more ways than one."

"Mistah B, las' night I was circulatin' t'ru de crowd like you said, keepin' an eye on ever'one and an ear out for troubles. I come up behind two men an' didn' like de way dey was lookin' at Miss Youvie's dance, so I lissen in, quiet-like. Dey was talkin' 'bout how she mus' tink she's so hot wit all dem day-glow tattoos and wonderin' how she'd like it if someone peeled dem off. Dey sounded pretty serious."

"And?"

"Well, I lean forward an' say, real casual-like dat you had a lot of money tied up in dose pretty designs and dat if anyting were to happen to de lady, you'd be reallyupset! Dat cooled dem down pretty fas' an' den I suggested dat it were prob'ly de alcohol talkin' instead of dem, bein' as Iknew dat dey woudn' really do nothin' to upset you. I suggested dat dey needed to go home and sober up. Dey left pretty fas'. But—I had Mikey der Geek do some checkin' out on dem since I knowed who dey was, Lafayette d'Espadrille an' Tony Sanmarzano. Turn out dey got a website where dey post all kinda pitchures of people who been burned or splashed wit' acid. Mostly it's ladies. Der comments dey make on de pitchures is crude and nasty an' dey all de time talk about doin' it to someone real soon."

"d'Espadrille and Sanmarzano . . . they were the ones the Fish and Wildlife Service accused of mutilating sea turtles that showed up in their shrimp nets." Mr. Biggswell scowled through his beard. It was not a pretty sight. "That's a very typical start for serial killers—torture animals first and then switch to people. And of course the law can't do anything until an actual crime is committed leaving some poor soul to suffer and die first. Well, not with my young ladies they won't,especially Miss Youvie."

"Der Gulf can be a dangerous piece of water, at time, Mistah B."

"It can, it can—especially with a little preemptive help. Tell Torchy Snyder he needs to take a walk on the levee along Lakeshore Drive tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock would be a good time."

"I will tell him person'ly. Dat way der is no tracin'."

"Good man, Albert. I want this wrapped up within the week."

*****

Two days after Christmas, Polly stood at the waiting room window watching her husband climb the stair into the intercity jet bound eventually for Hawai'i. She'd sent him off with a long, hot kiss. "And come back as soon as you can. You know how I love welcoming you home!" He'd squeezed her butt in good-bye and just before entering the plane had turned and waved. She'd returned the wave kind of frantically then stood watching as the jet taxied down the runway and lifted off to the west. Then she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

"Biggsy, honey? It's Youvie. I just put Steve on the plane. If you send the Gulfstream early we can spend some time making up for those days we lost in New Orleans. Tomorrow at ten? By the same hanger building? I'll be waiting." She blew a kiss into the phone and hung up.