The Taxman Killeth by Mary Ann Mitchell Page B

the hell happened.”
    “Let me do it for you,” she
said, reaching for his hand. He, too, was playing with his food.
    “You don’t understand what could
happen to you, do you? When I found Joey he was awash in blood, with his guts
spilling out.”
    Amy raised her napkin to her mouth.
    “I’m sorry, but maybe you need
to be shocked into comprehension, because, lady, that could be you some day if
you don’t keep out of this.”
    “Okay. Go out evenings and see
what you can find out, but then stay here during daylight hours.”
    “I’m not going to bring danger
to your front door, Amy.”
    Todd got up from the stool,
leaving most of his dinner in the checkered plate. Swiftly Amy cleaned up then
joined him. Once she sat down he used the remote control to turn on the
television and flipped through noisy channels.
    “There’s no news, Todd, and I
know you can’t stand most of the shows. You’ve complained several times about
the trash on the air waves. Can’t we talk and come to a compromise?”
    He muted the sound.
    “Compromise?”
    “If you won’t stay here, at
least keep in touch with me somehow.”
    Todd shook his head.
    “You owe it to me, Todd. What if
after you leave, someone finds out you had been here and comes looking for you?
What if I get into trouble with these people because I don’t know where you
are? I’m involved. The minute you took me out to dinner, I became involved.
Trudy knows I was with you that evening, and she has a big mouth.”
    He grimaced and flung the remote
control on the floor.
    “Don’t be angry,” she said,
rubbing her fingers on the back of his neck. His hair was soft and thick. “Please,
don’t block me out.”
    Todd pulled her closer and
buried his face in the warmth of her neck, sensing the throbbing of her pulse
and the sensual smell of her perfume. He nipped her earlobe and let his tongue
taste the contrast of the tiny diamond earring against her softer skin. Hard,
impenetrable stone against yielding flesh. How like himself, in contrast to
her, he thought, while exploring further into the convolutions of her ear. He
heard her murmur a sound. Not a word, but a simple sigh of longing. Todd began
covering her face with kisses, speeding up his journey to her luscious mouth.
His tongue slipped between her lips and felt her teeth rake gently across his
sensitive taste buds. The sweetness of the nectar she had had with the meal
still lingered and inspired a deeper plunge inside the walls of her mouth. Her
hand had moved up through his hair and pulled him closer. She wanted him to
enter deep and fast, he knew. His own hands worked her clothes, opening
buttons, popping those that would not undo quickly enough. A need to reach the
ripeness of her breasts and the silky wetness of her arose in him.
    With most of her clothes
discarded, Amy lay back on the couch and savored Todd’s weight. She could feel
the hardness of him push rhythmically against her mound, prevented from
entering by the thin silken cover of her bikini and the rough denim of his
jeans. His hand was under her bra, teasing her nipple to a tight taut erection.
Amy raised herself and reached around to undo her bra, allowing him to push the
material up over her full breasts. As he pulled her bra off his tongue slid
down her throat to her breasts and rounded the pinkish brown tips.
    The telephone rang, jolting Todd’s
mind back to the dangers that hovered over this match. He pulled away from her.
    “Answer it,” he demanded.
    Confused, Amy obeyed.
    “Hello?”
    “Is Todd there?”
    Amy froze. Her eyes were wide,
and she held the phone out to Todd. He took it and listened until the voice
repeated,
    “Is Todd there?” The voice was
hoarse, obviously disguised, Todd knew. He cradled the receiver.
    “Get your clothes on.” His tone
was harsh, steely.
    “But maybe it was a wrong
number.”
    “Get your clothes on,” he
repeated.
    Five minutes later, Todd was
jamming his things back into his canvas