CHAPTER 3: All Access Pass
This one was peach colored, Maxwell noticed. He also noticed how it complemented her creamy complexion. And that she was creamy every place that he could see.
He could see quite a lot. The neck of the robe was parted, making a long "v" shape that pointed invitingly downward. Meanwhile, the hem of the robe skimmed her thighs, moving with a soft rustle that created an invitation of another kind.
"You finished with your drink, Bill?" Starlet asked, moving to the bar.
The gentle swish of her hips under the peach satin drew his eyes like a magnet. He swallowed and turned toward the plate glass window. The sparkling lights of the Vegas strip stretched out for a mile on either side. It was a beautiful sight. But it wasn't distracting enough.
"Uh, thanks, sweetheart," he said. "I'd better hit the road. You've got a big day tomorrow with that photo shoot."
"Oh, have another drink, honey," she said over the clink of glasses and the rattle of ice cubes. "We're grown ups. Another Dubonnet?"
"Yeah, uh, you got anything that ain't quite so sweet?"
"Um… Amaretto?"
"Dubonnet's fine," he said, clenching his jaw to stop the grimace.
Starlet's taste in alcohol, like her taste in decorating, tended toward the sickly sweet. Still, he had to admit, the Dubonnet packed a neat little punch for wine that tasted like watered down cough syrup.
And, he thought, at least her apartment was mercifully un-pink, although the gold-leaf trimmed Louis XIV-style furniture wasn't a big improvement. Its thick paint looked like vanilla icing. He was getting a tooth ache just being in the same room with it.
She was at his elbow before he heard her step on the thick carpet. He glanced down as she handed him the glass and looked away again quickly. The peach robe had opened still further, showing a rounded curve of breast.
He'd seen both breasts in all their round and curvy glory just a few hours before, but there was something about seeing them barely covered by a thin scrap of satin and just a few inches away…
He stared out the window and took a deep pull from his glass of Dubonnet.
"So People Magazine," he said briskly. "That's a big deal, huh? The show must be a real hit."
"Bigger than Buddy Hackett and Florence Henderson put together!" Starlet said. The ice in her glass rattled as she took a long sip. "But Johnny says they're only coming caus'a the lawsuit."
Maxwell frowned, trying hard to get the thought of "Buddy Hackett and Florence Henderson put together" out of his mind. In desperation he glanced down at Starlet's robe. It wiped out one image, but set off an already familiar line of thought that traced the v-shaped opening of Starlet's satin robe to…
He stared back out the window.
"Lawsuit?" he said briskly. "You mean the Disney thing?"
"Yeah," Starlet said. "They don't own the story, ya know. That's what Johnny's lawyer says. And, anyway, we changed stuff."
"Well, sure you did," Maxwell said before he could stop himself. "You changed the 'C' to an 'S'. It's totally different."
"Right!" Starlet said. "And, you know, other stuff, too. Like the mice. They're not girls in the Disney version."
Maxwell blinked.
"Everyone's sayin' it's really caus'a the posters," Starlet went on. "That's what they're mad about."
"The ones that say, 'Disney Does Vegas'?" Maxwell said carefully. "You, uh, didn't clear that with 'em then?"
"Well, we woulda," Starlet said. "If we'd known they was gonna sue."
Maxwell inhaled deeply. Time to can the chit chat, he thought, the night wasn't getting any younger and he neither was he. He took another long pull from his drink and set the glass down carefully on a coaster shaped like a grinning sun.
"Starlet," he said as he turned back to the window, "About what I said earlier, in the car. About working with the FBI."
"Hmm?"
He glanced down. She was rolling the rim of her glass absently across her lower lip. He followed her downward gaze and realized with a start that she was staring at the reflection of his slacks in the plate glass window.
He reached for the sliding glass door and tugged at it.
"This open?" he said, fumbling with the latch.
"You wanna go outside?" Starlet said, a little breathlessly. "That sounds like fun. Here, let me."
She reached past him, turning as she leaned over. Her robe slid apart as she brushed against his suit jacket. He looked away, but not before catching a glimpse of rosy pink.
He stepped back quickly, pulling at his tie. It suddenly felt much too snug.
"Oh, are you hot?" Starlet murmurred. "Why don't you take off your jacket?"
"I'm fine," he said. "Maybe I'd better just-"
"Got it!" she said as the door slid back along its track. "Come on, you'll like it outside."
A she stepped through the door, the gentle breeze from the desert fluttered the hem of her robe. Maxwell realized, with very little sense of surprise, that Starlet didn't have a scrap on under the peach satin.
Against all his better judgment, or what little remained, he thought wryly, he followed her out onto the balcony.
"Now, what did you want to talk about, Bill?" Starlet said as she turned to face him. The robe was parted to her waist now, displaying her round little belly button and her flat little belly.
"Well, Starlet," he said carefully, dragging his gaze away from creamy skin to meet her eyes. "Like I said, we been after your boyfriend for a while now."
"The FBI," Starlet said and ran the tip of her pink tongue across her upper lip.
"Right…" Maxwell said, watching the path of her tongue as it traced back…
He turned toward the Vegas skyline with grim determination.
"We could really use your help," he said. "You have information-"
"So you got a gun?" Starlet said.
"What?"
He looked down in surprise and saw her take a step toward him.
"Starlet-" he began, but she reached out for the lapel of his jacket before he come up with anything more intelligent to say.
She pushed his jacket open to reveal the butt of his revolver, nestled in its leather shoulder holster.
"Oh," she said, tracing the curve of the stock with her finger. "It's bigger than Johnny's. And his is big."
He stared down at her open-mouthed. That's when she leaned up on her toes and kissed him.
He would have taken a step back, he told himself later. But the sliding glass door was in the way. Plus she took him by surprise.
And it was a surprise, the way her soft pink mouth opened against his. The way her little pink tongue darted between his lips. Then there was the way she pressed against him. And the way she gave a little whine deep in her throat as she pushed her hips against his. Not to mention the way she rocked forward and back. That surprised him so much he gasped and finally did try to step away.
His head collided with the glass door with a resounding thud. Starlet came down off her toes and gave him a little frown.
"Bill Maxwell," she said, taking a step back as he rubbed at the lump rising on the back of his head. "I'm startin' to think you really came up here to talk me into helping the FBI."
Maxwell let out a long breath
"Starlet, sweetheart," he said evenly, "I did."
She blinked.
"Oh," she said and bit her lip.
She stared at him for a long moment.
"Well, I'm not gonna," she said at last. "So how 'bout it. You wanna do it or not?"
He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to answer. He was even reasonably sure of what was going to come out, although he had to admit there was a shred of doubt about as wide as the opening at the front of Starlet's robe.
But before he could speak, she stated her case.
She reached down and untied the belt at her waist. Then in a single movement, she opened the robe, slipped it from her shoulders, and let it fall to the ground.
She stood there on the balcony, with the lights of Las Vegas behind her. Naked and as ripely beautiful as it was possible to be.
And Bill Maxwell noticed as he stepped forward, her skin was just as creamy… everywhere.
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- continued-
"Prelude to a Hit"