Margo continued wantonly displaying her charms while she drove Steve Conway to the nearest motel. He'd left the prison gates behind him, and her shameless exhibition charged his mind with lust. But he could afford to be patient. He had Margo, the use of her posh apartment, and the hidden $40,000. But it wasn't so easy to adjust to life on the outside. The old gang had broken up, he was thought of as a has-been in his old slum neighborhood, and the insurance company was bringing pressure to bear for the return of the loot. He had ten days to cough up the hot cash, or it was back to the slam. And then he saw Teddy ... aid knew he had to claim her ... and his criminal mind began functioning again. In his Crime in a Changing Society, Howard Jones writes: "Most psychologists who study crime nowadays look for its causes in mental factors which lie outside the individual's control. ... Everything we do ... has a discoverable cause in the shape of a personal conflict or anxiety." Perhaps Steve's conflicts were too many to escape the slum syndrome....
CHAPTER ONE
Steve Conway felt the need for sex as he walked the corridors of Joliet State Prison for the last time. He scarcely heard the muted calls of good luck coming to him from the men behind the barred doors. His mind was on the outside, an outside he hadn't seen in three years. He looked down at the cheap blue suit he'd just been given and found it hard to' recognize himself in anything but prison denim.
When Conway came to a steel door he waited for his guard escort to catch up. When he did he rapped on the panel with his stick and it opened onto another hall.
"Down there," the guard rasped, indicating the direction with his club.
"I thought I was getting out," Conway protested. He knew this wasn't the way to the outer world. To Margo's hot body and the freedom to use it.
"The warden wants to see you," the guard said.
"What about?"
The man with the brass buttons on his coat gave Conway a push. "That's for you to find out."
Conway started walking reluctantly until he was opposite the door marked WARDEN. At a nod from the guard he went in.
Warden Hankins looked up from the papers on his desk as Conway came into the room. There wasn't the flicker of a smile on his stern face. He appraised the man with practiced eyes. Conway certainly didn't look like the kid of twenty he'd been when he arrived at Joliet. Three years of prison life had aged him. The ohubby fat of his face was gone, Hankins reflected. In its place was a set of lean, hardened features belonging to a man much older than twenty-three. Of course the scar along his chin added to the illusion. It served as a reminder to Hankins that Steve Conway was well on his way to becoming a hardened criminal. Hadn't he tried to kill a man the first week he'd been at Joliet? That scar was from a guard's billy used to break up the fight.
Hankins leaned back in his chair, wondering to himself if his job was really worth it. Conway was still only a kid. And yet Hankin's was about to release him on an unsuspecting public, unable to warn those on the other side of the wall that this good-looking youth would as soon use a shiv as look at a person.
"You wanted to see me?" Conway snapped, angry at the delay in his getting out.
Hankins nodded and leaned across his desk. He picked up some money and handed it to Conway. "Here's your fifty dollars. It's a standard amount we give all released prisoners." He added meaningfully, "But I'm sure you won't need it."
Conway smiled bitterly and put the money away. "Why not? I have to eat like everybody else."
"You know what I mean," Hankins said.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't," Conway said. "In either case it's something for you to think about."
Hankins grated at the insolent tone in Conway's voice. Right now he felt like taking a billy to the punk himself. But he knew he couldn't. Hankins was under orders from higher up to leave the kid strictly alone. Just the same, he had to get a few things off his chest or he'd wind up beating his kids when he got home. He got up from the desk and went around to face Conway. He had to look up to the six-footer. "You'll be back in here," he said angrily.
Conway shook his head. "Not me, warden. I've learned my lesson. I intend to be a very good boy from now on." Sexing Margo, he thought.
"Like hell you will," Hankins grunted. He stuck his chin out. "I just want you to know I was against your parole."
"You don't have to tell me that," Conway said. "I never figured you were on my side."
"I think it's a damned mistake to let you go."
A slight smile formed in the corner of Conway's mouth. He knew he was bugging the warden, and he began to enjoy himself. "Aren't you supposed to be giving me a lecture on the value of going straight when I leave here?" he asked, his tone mocking. "I heard you shook all the boys' hands when they left and wished them luck." He extended his arm. "Here's mine."
Warden Hankins spun on his heels and walked across the room to the window. For a moment he looked down onto the narrow yard below, formed by the surrounding four brick walls. It was exercise period, and most of the convicts were milling around, trying to forget the twenty or so guards armed with rifles to see they didn't try and escape.
Hankins turned back to Conway. "You going to tell us where the money is?"
The dark-haired man smiled even more broadly. At the same time he shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture. "What money, warden? Or do you mean the fifty bucks you just gave me?"
Warden Hankins was losing his temper fast. "Get die hell out of here," he spat. He motioned at the guard standing beside the door to enforce the order. "Throw him out of the front door. I don't want to see this punk again."
Conway didn't have time to be angry. He was too anxious to follow the guard. He gave the warden a final insolent smile and left the room. His shoes made a peculiar sound as they walked the cement floor. Three corridors, five steel doors, and one set of steps later they were out in the yard, skirting the other prisoners as they approached the front gate.
Conway stopped as his escort showed the release papers to the man in the little room. He could see the outside now, through the banks of steel in front of him. He breathed a little heavier, realizing that after so many months he was only a few steps from freedom and a female's body.
"Okay, Conway," the guard called out to him. "You can go."
Another door opened and Conway stepped through it. And just like that, he was on the outside. To his back were the four walls that he'd grown so used to.
Conway stood still, sucking in air, wondering why it should suddenly taste so good. Maybe because there was no smell of sweat from a hundred men's bodies. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed cleanliness.
Conway blinked his eyes against the glare of the noonday sun and looked around him. The highway fronting the prison was crowded with cars coming and going to the nearby town of Joliet. In the distance there were trees and grass, clouds and buildings, kids playing in empty fields. Closer by, a tractor chugged noisily down a half-grown field of corn.
Conway listened to the crescendo of noise and enjoyed each and every sound. None of it sounded like a hundred tin cups in the mess hall. Or the snoring of many men in the middle of the night.
"Three years," Conway muttered to himself. He'd never known that time could pass so slowly.
And suddenly Conway felt the sensations of uncertainty. For the first time he was on his own. Out here no one told him when to eat, go to bed, or read. In this world he had to learn to make decisions again.
The first decision was what to do next. Conway felt a trickle of sweat beneath the heavy suit as he turned the possibilities over in his mind. His natural thought was to get back to the big city, Chicago. But that was thirty miles away. Just how the hell did he go about making the trip?
Coming to the prison had been no sweat. The state had taken care of that for him. After he'd been judged guilty of the bank job the law had been very kind concerning his transportation. They'd dumped him in a police van and hauled him out here.
Getting home was up to him ... if Margo didn't show up. Margo and her hot flesh.
The first step, Conway decided, was to put one leg in front of the other and walk out of here. He glanced up at the guards in their ivory towers and strode off in the direction of town, anxious to put as much of the nightmare behind him as possible.
Other thoughts began to crowd into his mind as the realization he was free sank in. Foremost of all was Margo. Just why the hell wasn't she here to meet him? In her last letter she'd promised him she'd pick him up.
Steve looked around again. None of the passing cars were doing under forty. They were obeying the big red warning signs to the letter: JOLIET PRISON. DO NOT STOP. MINIMUM SPEED 40. The guards up in their guard posts added emphasis to the painted word.
Conway stripped off his coat and draped it over his lean shoulder. He was finding it impossible to get Margo out of his mind.
And with good reason. For six months before he'd been sent up she'd been his steady girl. That meant she'd performed as his regular mistress.
Every night for three years Conway had raped her again and again in his dreams, seeing her time after time with her eager charms.
She'd had plenty. Steve hadn't forgotten an inch of that beautiful, slim, naked body with the big boobs.
He'd damned himself a hundred times over for not appreciating it more when sex had been so plentiful. And now that he was out he was damned well going to make up for lost time.
Conway chuckled to himself, wondering if he'd be able to pass any dame by without throwing her onto the sidewalk. He'd had one hell of a long dry spell.
His mind went back to Margo and he damned her again. Why the hell hadn't she come? Thoughts of her out with other guys made the small hairs on his neck bristle. Still, he had to be practical. She was a dame, and all dames have only one thing on their mind. He couldn't blame her for taking what was given. Just why hadn't she come down here to give him a little? What he needed most at this moment was a friendly face instead of the fannies of retreating cars.
Steve had just resigned himself to the fate of a long train ride back to town when he heard a car horn sound off. He looked up and across the road. At first he didn't recognize the figure behind the wheel of the convertible. When he finally did see who it was, a broad smile cracked his face.
Damned if Margo hadn't come after all.
Ignoring the racing traffic Conway sprinted across the highway. "It's about time you got here," he growled when he was close enough to be heard.
The woman smiled. "I'm sorry, Steve. Traffic held me up."
Conway's pent-up frustrations poured forth. "You sure you just couldn't get out of some guy's sack in time?"
"That's no way to talk," Margo scolded. "You know I'm saving all I have for you."
"I bet," Conway growled. He went around to the passenger side of the car and slid in.
"Don't you want to drive? Margo asked.
He shook his head. "I'm not sure I could. It's been a long time." He looked over at the woman beside him. Just being near anything female sent his glands into overtime. He reflected that she wasn't as cute as he remembered. The smooth, doll-like face had a few lines that he'd forgotten about. Her body hadn't changed though. Everything was well-packed into the tight dress that dipped low at the neck. Her breasts thrust well forward toward the dash, straining hard at the material that contained them. All in all, she was still quite a dish.
Margo smiled as she noticed his inventory. "You like?" she asked.
Conway slid closer to her. He rested his hand on a thigh. The feel of the garter beneath the cloth sent his temperature soaring. "Yeah," he agreed. "I sure as hell do."
"Then how about kissing me. It's been a long time." Margo tilted her mouth.
Conway needed no second invitation. He pulled the girl to him roughly and clamped his mouth tightly over hers. There was no subtle 'technique to the embrace. Conway let his tongue do the talking. Her warm and supple lips lighted a fire in his guts.
When Margo moaned and tried to pull away Conway refused to let her go. He used his hand to bring her to the heights he felt, driving up beneath the dress, not stopping until the coolness of her panties was beneath his touch.
Margo's reaction was immediate. She thrust her body against that hand, not caring that he was now on the intimacy of the flesh itself.
"Not here," she managed to say at last, pulling away from him with some difficulty.
"Where then?"
"We'll go to my apartment."
Conway knew he couldn't wait that long. "No," he disagreed. "That's two hours away. Isn't there a motel near here?"
Margo looked down at the point where his hand vanished beneath her skirt, feeling weak from what he was doing to her. "I suppose there is."
"Then go there," Conway ordered.
Margo looked over at him and smiled. "Just what are you planning to do to me?"
Conway gave his hand an extra squeeze, enjoying the expression of weakness in her face. "If you don't know, I won't tell you," he grinned.
"You really want it bad don't you?"
"Just what the hell do you think?"
"What have you to offer in return?" Margo teased.
He took her hand and pressed it against his body.
"Three years of waiting."
"Oh, Lord," Margo said softly. "Beautiful ... if I can wait."
"Let's find out," Conway suggested.
Margo pressed her lips together and nodded. She started the engine and eased back onto the highway, sliding into the steady stream of traffic, trying to ignore 'his hand.
Conway tried to control himself. It wasn't easy. The girl was ready and so was he. "You wouldn't happen to have a drink would you?" he asked.
"In the glove compartment."
Conway took his hand back, noting with satisfaction that Margo made no motion to pull her dress down over her exposed, shapely thighs. One garter strap dangled uselessly, unhooked from her stocking. He found the small bottle of bourbon and took a long drink, rolling the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it. Had anything ever tasted as good? Conway wanted more but he was afraid of spoiling the primary business at hand. He extended the jug at Margo. "Want some?"
"Not now. You know what it does to me."
Conway chuckled as memory came back. Whiskey had always made her sleepy. He reached over and fondled one of her breasts through the dress. It seemed heavier than he remembered. "You aren't heavier are you," he said, smiling.
Margo made a face. "Not yet." There's a lot of me there."
Conway was a trifle startled by her frankness. In the distant past she's always remained a lady ... even when her clothes were off and he was snuggled up against her. It was obvious to him that Margo had changed.
Not that he cared. At the moment, she could have been as purple as the famous cow and he still would have wanted her. There was a lot of emotion that needed out. Margo was the only recipient available. Delicacy didn't mean a damn at a time like this.
"Let s soc something," Conway growled, annoyed at their delay in getting to a motel.
Margo smiled at him. "Top or bottom?"
"Both."
"You're a hog. She raised herself on the seat with one hand long enough to slide her dress from beneath her. The black panties with the lace around the edges were in vivid contrast to the red leather upholstery she was seated upon.
"Take those damned things off," Conway ordered.
Margo laughed and shook her head. "I will;" she promised. "When we get to where we're going."
The woman was driving Conway crazy. It was bad enough having been without for so long. "What's die matter with this place?" he asked as they approached a group of buildings alongside the highway.
"It's so shabby," Margo protested.
"All we want is a bed," Conway growled. "You won't have much time to inspect the joint."
The girl shrugged and pulled onto the gravel drive. As they stopped in front of the building marked OFFICE, she quickly tugged her dress to a decent level.
"You'd better get the room," Conway suggested. "They might guess where I've been staying."
Margo opened her door and slid onto the road. "Do you want a single or double bed?" she smiled.
"Get a move on," Conway ordered gruffly. He watched die woman vanish into the building, admiring the movement of her firm bottom. Then he looked around. As Margo had said, the motel wasn't a triple A type. Most of the lawn was dead or dying. The units were little more than wooden shacks sadly in need of paint. A few cars were parked in the stalls provided and in view of the hour, it wasn't hard to imagine what the occupants were doing inside the rooms.
Conway lit a cigarette. He reflected that he didn't have any kick coming. Less than four hours ago he'd been behind bars. Now he was free, he had a drink beneath his belt and a dame waiting to be taken. What the hell did it matter if this joint wasn't the Ritz? The better things would come later.
Margo returned to the car jiggling a key. "We're in number seven," she announced.
"Any trouble?"
"Nothing except hands." She nodded toward the office she'd just left. "The old man in there is all alone with very young ideas. He seems to like the fed of his women customers."
"Did you let him?"
Margo got into the car and drove it toward the parking place. "Of course," she admitted. "He looked as if he could use a thrill.
Her bluntness shocked Conway. He hadn't grown used to the change in Margo.
"You coming?" Margo prompted as she left the car. As she approached the door her fingers Were already on the buttons of the dress. By the time Conway came up to her everything was loose from the waist up, including her belt and the zipper to her skirt.
"You don't waste much time," he smiled, taking the key from her hand.
"Why not? We're both adults and know what we want."
Conway's hand shook as he unlocked the panel. He stepped back to let Margo pass. By now she'd taken off the dress and stood out there in the briefest of bra and panties, seemingly unconcerned that anyone passing along the highway could get an excellent view of her splendid body. The long garter straps snaking from beneath her underclothing added wickedness to the scene. "You certainly aren't very modest," Conway grunted.
"Why should I be?" Margo said, smiling. "I don't care who looks. It's who uses me that's important."
Conway guided her into the room and closed the door behind them. The interior of the unit was about as bad as the outside. Cheap wallpaper with long-faded roses held the wall together. Cracked linoleum made up the floor. One bed almost filled the space and close by a beat-up John, visible through an open door, gurgled noisily. Somehow this took all the fun from what Conway intended doing. He'd spent many a night planning how he'd spend his first evening in the open. None of his thoughts involved this shabbiness.
In his mind's eye he'd seen a fancy suite with room service being run ragged. He'd pictured Margo in long, loose-fitting negligee that hid everything but offered plenty of promise. Though the window would have been a panorama of Chicago, showing him everything he'd missed in those three long years.
This was not at all as he'd planned. But he had picked the motel.
Margo broke into Conway's thoughts. Considering her state of undress it wasn't difficult. "You don't act as if your mind is on your work," she scolded. "I'll have to fix that."
She did, in the most direct way possible, unzipping his trousers, bringing him into 'the air. Her face seemed to go slightly pale as she looked at him. "Oh," she said softly. "Beautiful. All men should have to wait as long."
The warmth and strength of her hand brought Conway back to full heat instantly. He growled his pleasure and brought her to him, twisting her lips to meet his with his hand in her hair. The mouth was an inviting, wide-open canyon of desire.
Their kiss was a muted explosion in the quiet of the room. Margo whimpered and pushed her stomach at his, positioning herself.
Conway held on tight and did his part. The warmth of the woman was unbelievable. His hands roaming her back enjoyed the soft flesh, broken only by the remaining bra strap. He dipped the fingers low and went beneath the panties and felt the strong muscles of her buttocks working as she tried to press even closer.
Margo's eyes were fogged as she looked up at Conway. "You'll kill me."
"Want to quit?"
"You know better than that." Her fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt. "Get undressed."
Conway shook his head. He was too far gone for any delays. "Later. We got other business right now."
"With your shoes on?"
He pushed her gently away and rolled the elastic of the panties down. When her broad hips slowed the downward movement he tore the thin cloth away. A garter belt still clung about her waist, and the bra continued to cover her breasts. These didn't 'matter. All he could see were her firm thighs. Conway teased her, touching her, pulling back, going close again.
Margo whimpered softly. Her breath came heavy as she ran her hands between them and guided him to more sensitive grounds. "You can't go standing up," she whispered in his throat.
"Do something about it."
She did, guiding him toward the bed, sinking onto her back and waiting for him to join her. "Take me," she cried out, raising her legs in the air.
Conway could barely see the woman through the sweat pouring down his forehead and into his eyes. He reached down and followed the stockings up her thighs, then skipped to the long straps of the garter belt. Her stomach quivered as he touched it. He transferred his hands to the fullness of her breasts, wishing they were in the open as he used them for support as he lowered his body onto hers.
Margo quivered as they met and raised toward him, beginning her movements slowly, even before he was set. "That's lovely," she sighed.
"Not yet," Conway, painted.
She looked up into his face. "Soon," she smiled. "I love it." She pulled at his buttocks, urging him.
Conway needed no help. He felt the warmth of the woman now, and his head spun. He lunged his hips at her, and she responded. He lost control and pounded her against the bed, listening to her cries of encouragement, feeling her legs, crossed around him, trying to pull his body closer.
Margo's face was wild with want as she held Conway. There was a fire within her, and she loved every moment of it, cursing that she couldn't ignite.
Conway felt himself rising to the peak. He tried to stall off, but it was useless. He'd been without too long. "Soon," he warned Margo.
"No, not yet," she protested. "I want more. I want more. I want to go with you. I'm not ready." She anxiously pulled a strap of her bra from her shoulder and bared a breast. The pink tip was tremendous. "Take it," she ordered. "Bite it off."
It was all Conway needed. As his mouth closed over that softness he felt himself going. He released the breast and stared at Margo for the briefest of seconds.
She knew what was happening. Her hand pulled his head and lips to hers and she gasped as he rocked. "Oh, Lord," she cried out. "Finish me." Conway did just that.
CHAPTER TWO
Conway rested his head on Margo for a moment, angry with himself for having been so quick. It was hardly like the old days when he'd had complete and absolute control. Then, he'd been able to drive a woman crazy with anticipation. Dames always liked that, he reflected. Nothing drove them wilder than having a man tease their passion. He remembered that once he'd forced Margo to go off six times before he'd finally given her what she'd wanted.
"That was nice," Margo said softly as she stroked his hair.
"Too damned quick," Conway growled. "Sorry."
"Don't be. We have plenty of time. I took the room for the night." She frowned and added, "But we should be more careful."
"About what?"
"Everything."
"You didn't expect me to leave?"
"Hardly," Margo smiled. "I want everything that I've got. "But one of us should have been protected. I even stopped at the drug store on the way out here and bought you a present."
"It's too late now," Conway grunted. He pulled her mouth to his and gave her a kiss.
"How did you manage for the three years I was gone?"
"I didn't," Margo said bluntly.
Conway felt brief anger. Every man likes to feel his woman is his personal property. "That's a hell of a note," he growled.
Margo leaned over and brushed his lips with hers. One breast was still loose and it dug into his shirt. "Don't be angry," she soothed. "Don't forget, you showed me what I was missing."
Conway had no answer to that argument. Margo had been a naive twenty-year-old bank teller when he'd first met her. She'd been one of his hardest conquests. It had cost him fifty bucks and three dates before he'd even been able to kiss her. Another fifty had gone out the window by the. time he'd touched a breast ... on the outside of the dress.
That had been the crack in the dike however. Even now Conway smiled as he remembered that time they'd parked down by the lake. She'd been scared to death and had shown it. But it had been obvious she'd liked his hand roaming the outside of her dress. The next step had been a handful of bare breast. Then a grab at her legs. That'd been the clincher. He'd gotten her down to the buff in the back seat of that old Chevy and given her a three-hour ride that had brought her back crying for more the next day. The next six months, until he'd been sent to prison, had been very interesting.
Conway looked up at the woman above him and wondered if he hadn't been too good an instructor. "Are you sorry I showed you the facts of life?" he grinned.
"Don't be silly," Margo said. She wiggled her hips. "You're still with me. Want to do something about it?"
"You hot?"
"I never cooled off."
Conway rolled over onto his back and Margo wound up seated astride his body, her knees doubled beneath her.
"You haven't forgotten have you," she said, smiling down at him. "This is still my favorite way."
Conway enjoyed the position himself. This way he could have even more pleasure. Looking down he could see himself. The scene upwards was just as good. She'd loosened her hair and the long, dark strands trickled across her shoulders. While he watched, she unfastened the bra and tossed it away. Her freed breasts were beautiful globes of pink flesh swaying, trembling slightly from her movements designed to gain more feeling. The garter belt, still in place, seemed oddly out of place considering their present position.
"Like what you see?" Margo teased, shaking her bosom like an experienced strip teaser.
"You have too many clothes on," Conway growled.
"Take care of it." The girl was breathing harder, liking what was being done to her. She helped things along by putting her hand between them, caressing him. The redness of her nails was in vivid contrast to her skin.
Conway was getting warm himself. He reached out and unhooked the garter belt. The straps were still fastened to her stockings. He managed to get the clips free and throw the dark garment away. "You won't have much hose left after this," he said. The sharp bend of her knees had already produced several runs.
"I can always buy stockings. I can't buy anything as good as this."
Conway wished she wouldn't talk like that. He wondered where she'd learned the language. It certainly hadn't been from him. He liked his women, but he liked them gentle.
There wasn't much time to think about it. Margo's efforts at heating him up were paying off. "We're wasting an awful lot of time," she complained, touching him.
Conway reached out and grasped her breasts and used them as handles. They quivered in his grip as he pushed against her. Margo's eyes began to glaze as she came close to fulfillment.
"I'm going," she panted. Her breathing was ragged and her nipple?, hard as stones, pulsated in Conway's grasp.
At length the girl seemed to stiffen. She looked at Conway but saw nothing, interested only in the pleasant sensations spreading through her body. She let out a long sigh and pressed her lips against his. "That was lovely," she murmured. "Did you enjoy it?"
Conway had his control back. He hadn't given her everything she wanted. That would come later.
Spurred by his silence, Margo opened her eyes. "Did you...?" she began.
Conway grinned and shook his head.
"You're a devil," Margo scolded. "It's just like the first time."
"Only then it was seven."
"You couldn't hold out that long now," Margo said.
"Don't be too sure. What makes you think so?"
She wrinkled her nose and brushed hair from between them as she lay her head on his chest. "I've learned a few tricks since then."
"Such as what?"
"You'll find out," Margo promised.
"Who have you been sleeping with?" Conway asked, changing the subject abruptly.
Margo smiled up at him like a small kitten. "What makes you think I've been sleeping with anyone?"
"You said so. Besides I can tell."
"How?"
"Want me to demonstrate?"
Margo sighed. "No. A woman just can't keep any secrets. Are you angry?"
Conway shook his head. "Not really. You had to have something to do to keep you busy." He wondered if he believed his own trite words.
Margo sat up and looked down at the man on the bed for a moment "I'd better get up," she announced. "I'm getting stiff."
"You'll cool off," Conway warned.
Margo pulled free, drawing, in her breath at the pleasure of sudden movements. She sprang to her feet.
Conway watched the woman as she stood still for a moment. She certainly was tall and lean, naked and lovely. Her breasts were much bigger than he remembered them. That seemed to be the only change. The unhooked stockings had slid a little down her legs, adding to the illusion of wickedness. She bent down to get rid of the nylons, and her breasts swung outwards like twin pendulums. He reached out and touched the tip of one, admiring the rock-hardness.
"You like those, don't you," Margo said as she straightened up, her legs now as bare as the rest of her.
"I do."
She came a step closer, her eyes half closed. "What else do you like?"
"You don't need an answer to that."
Margo was leaning against the bed now, tempting him. "Kiss me," she said softly.
Conway reflected that the girl had had her motor wide open ever since they'd met at the prison. Now, instead of cooling off, she was getting even warmer. When he hesitated doing her bidding, she reached out and pulled his head to her.
"Bite," she demanded.
Conway did. She was warm and soft, responsive. His lips roamed touching, enjoying until it was obvious she was being driven crazy. His hands dug into her buttocks, holding her close, until in a final frenzied thrust she pushed him back onto the bed and buried him in an avalanche of flesh.
Minutes later Conway looked up into Margo's face and saw her smiling weakly. "You did it again, damn you," she swore. Her fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt. "Now it's my turn."
Conway was stripped in short order and before he had a chance to protest the woman was on him, doing things to him he wouldn't have believed possible. In five minutes Margo turned their meeting onto an orgy of sex that he wouldn't soon forget. Nothing was sacred, and it wasn't long before Conway felt himself losing control.
"Roll over," he growled.
Instead of cooperating, Margo laughed wildly and held him to her breasts, holding tight, working him hard. It wasn't long before the inevitable happened. Margo cried out in glee.
The rest of the night was more of the same. Instead of the evening happening as Conway had pictured, it turned into a nightmare. There was none of the delicacy of sex that Conway enjoyed. Margo came at him like a sledge hammer, giving and taking freely in a dozen different ways that alternately shocked and repelled him. Not that he didn't accept each method and give back in return. He did. Conway had been dry too long to refuse anything Margo offered.
But in time their activities exhausted both of them.
Conway was the first to awaken. He opened his eyes expecting to see the iron ceiling of the prison above his head. Instead, scattered strands of Margo's hair trailed over his face.
He lay there quietly, afraid to disturb the girl and begin all over. From the way his body ached he knew he wasn't up to another session.
His memory went back to last night, and he groaned to himself. Just what the hell had happened to Margo? She certainly hadn't been like that when they first slept together. Now she knew every trick of the hookers and some besides.
Maybe she had turned into a pro. Conway toyed with the possibility and then dismissed it. Her body was still too perfect for professionalism. She didn't have the saggy breasts that stamped the ladies of ill repute.
Not that she hadn't been selling some of it. Margo would have been a damned fool not to put a little of her perfect merchandise on the open market.
Conway carefully left the bed and padded across the room for his pants. He found his cigarettes and lighted one. It tasted wonderful. Last night he hadn't even been left time for a coffee break.
His head clearing, Conway sat in a chair and looked over at the woman on the bed. Her pose on top of the covers was one of complete surrender. From his position he could see everything. He turned away before he was tempted to do something about it. Everything else aside, she still had plenty to offer.
Conway dragged at his cigarette, thinking over the events since his release from prison. Actually he hadn't had much time for thought. Since his meeting with Margo on the highway he hadn't said one word concerning where he'd been. And she hadn't asked any questions, not that there'd been much time for quiz games.
He snuffed out his cigarette, wishing he had a drink. It was then he thought of the bottle in the glove compartment.
Working as quietly as he could, he put on his clothes and left the room. Conway was almost to the car before he saw the cop standing beside the convertible. His heart dropped into his shoes. He was about to turn and make a run for it when the man in blue looked up.
"You own this car?" he asked sharply.
Conway's lips had suddenly gone dry. "Uh, not really," he muttered.
"You were about to get in it weren't you?" the cop pressed.
Conway licked his lips and nodded his head. "I suppose I was," he agreed. "Then who does own it?"
Conway would have wondered just what the hell this was all about. But since his last brush with the law he'd developed a fear complex to a blue uniform. This aversion left him with a rather bad malady, speechlessness. "I ... I ... she's in the motel."
"She?"
Conway gathered some strength from an unknown source. "What's this all about?" he asked, trying not to stammer.
The cop had started toward the room. He glanced over his shoulder and answered Conway's question. "That's a stolen car."
The next hour was a bad one for Conway. Through most of it he had visions of being returned to prison less than twenty-four hours after he'd been released. It was not a good feeling.
The cop had stormed right in the room and arrested Margo, telling her to take her time about dressing. And why not? He'd had a good view. It had seemed to Conway that Margo showed him a trifle more than necessary under the circumstances. The woman certainly had changed.
After they both were properly clothed they were hustled into a patrol car and brought downtown to the station in Joliet. It was here that Margo let go some choice epithets at the assembled officers, none of which endeared her to their hearts.
Despite his recent internment in a place where swearing is a hobby, Conway learned a few new words from the woman.
It hadn't taken the police long to learn of Conway's recent confinement, and he was well on his way back there before Margo was given her privilege of a phone call. She'd done a fine job and whoever was on the end of that line had a talk with the captain.
After that it was all downhill. The cops patted Margo's fanny a few times, gave him a pack of cigarettes and sent them on their way.
It was only when they were well out of town that Conway began to breathe easily again. He looked over at the woman beside him. She'd been silent most of the trip so far. "Just what the hell was that all about?" he asked.
Margo looked as radiant as a spring bride. She showed no hint of the use she'd been put to recently. "Just a case of mistaken identity," she smiled.
"The hell with that noise," Conway scoffed. "Those boys were after blood. I've been there and seen the look."
"If I told you, you'd probably be angry."
"Maybe I would," Conway growled. "But I think you owe me an explanation for almost having a heart attack. I thought I was on my way back into the can."
Margo laughed pleasantly. "I didn't realize you'd worry. I knew all along that we were perfectly safe."
"You, could have let me in on your little secret," Conway said sullenly.
She put a hand on his and her face sobered. "I'm sorry, Steve. I hadn't thought of it that way. I didn't steal this car. I sort of borrowed it from a friend."
"A sleeping friend?" Conway guessed.
Margo nodded and remained silent.
"Anyone I know?"
"No. Just a man I do a few favors for now and then. He has been out of town and I needed a car to pick you up."
"Some friend he is," Conway grunted, lighting a fresh cigarette.
"Oh he didn't report the car stolen." Margo said quickly.
"Who did?"
She looked across at him and smiled broadly. "His wife."
The comedy of the situation struck Conway right in his funny bone. He started to laugh and couldn't stop until he was weak.
"I'm glad you think it's so funny," Margo pouted. "It is," Conway chuckled.
"Then maybe you'd like to sleep with him for the week I promised in return for his getting his wife to drop the charges."
That sobered Conway quick enough. He eased over beside the girl and took possession of her leg, high up. It surprised him that he was still hot for her.
Margo glanced down at her exposure and then over at him, saying nothing, seemingly liking what he was doing.
"Where to now?" Conway asked. "Back to Chicago, unless...." She looked at his hand, adding, "you want to stop at another motel."
"I can wait."
Margo changed the subject abruptly. "Was it so terrible in prison?"
Conway flipped his cigarette from the moving car, reflecting that she was finally getting around to the subject at hand. He made himself a bet that she'd ask him the magic question within the next five minutes. "It was lousy," he admitted, in answer to her query.
"I thought I'd die waiting for you to get out."
"Don't give me that," Conway snapped. "I never saw you up there on visitors' day. And I couldn't start much of a fire with the letters you sent."
Margo became contrite. "I'm sorry, Steve," she said. "I never felt like writing, and I was pretty busy most of the time. I knew you'd understand."
"I didn't," he growled.
She leaned over and kissed him, at the same time nudging his hand a few degrees higher. She wasn't wearing panties and the effect was sensational. "I'm here now. You can have me all to yourself."
Conway had to admit that was something. Maybe she hadn't done everything he'd expected of her but when he needed her she'd come through. Anyhow, why work up a sweat about it now? Later on, when he had the time, he could beat her around a little. "How's the gang?" he asked, giving her bare thigh a squeeze.
"What gang? They split up a few months after you were caught.
"Gone on to bigger and better things," Conway grinned. "I guess I did a pretty good job of teaching those punks how to handle themselves." He liked to think back to the way he'd organized the Southsiders. He'd taken a half dozen kids off the streets and made them into a unit that was the envy of all Chicago. None of the stuff they did was big time, but stealing caps and picking pockets had its thrills. If he hadn't been sent up they would have turned pro. However, he'd been dumb enough to be talked into that bank job before he was ready, and that was that.
It wouldn't be that way the next time, Conway promised himself. He'd spent three years planning what their next move would be. The Southsiders were about to graduate to the big league. His first job would be getting the boys back together when he returned. "Any idea where I can locate them?"
"We keep in touch," Margo admitted. "Jim's working for a bank. Slim Sam is in a brokerage house. Harry Hawkins sells insurance. Shorty is in his last year of college at the University of Chicago. He was given a scholarship."
"Don't tell me they've all gone legitimate." Conway found it hard to believe the news. "I'll have to have a talk with those guys."
"Go ahead," Margo challenged. "They won't change. Most of them are married, and you could start a nursery with the kids." She patted Conway's hand. "Like you say, three years is a long time. It's not fashionable to run around Chicago any more with big letters printed on the back of your jacket. That's strictly for the bush in New York. You've been bypassed."
Conway felt oddly uneasy at her news. Why? Was it because he'd been the only one caught? Or was it something else, jealousy of the gang's legitimate success. He shook the feelings off. "I need a drink," he spat, and he jerked his hand from her leg.
"Help yourself." Margo waved at the glove compartment.
They traveled the remainder of the trip mostly in silence. Conway alternated enjoying the scenery with deep thinking. He had to admit that Margo puzzled the hell out of him. He'd expected her to mention the money long before this, almost the first crack out of the box. And yet she hadn't even hinted at it. It wasn't like any woman to keep quiet about forty thousand dollars.
And there was the matter of the news concerning his gang. Conway didn't quite know what to make of it. With them gone, he'd been left high and dry. As far back as he could remember he'd run with a bunch of other guys. He'd never been much of a loner. Sure, they'd gotten in plenty of trouble. He had six years of reform school and three of prison to prove that fact.
Still, up to now Conway had figured the time he'd done as part of the education. If a guys going to be good he has to learn the hard way. He had, and his next move would have been to train his boys in what he'd learned.
But now there weren't any boys. He was on his own, and he wasn't so sure he liked it.
Of course there was the money. That would certainly ease things along for a while, at least until he got his feet on the ground. However, Conway knew he had to be damned careful in the direction of the dough. That brought up a new thought and he expressed it out loud. "Have you any idea why they let me go?"
Margo stared at him in surprise. "Your time was up. You were eligible for parole."
"Uh-uh," Conway disagreed. "I was give five to ten. That meant I had no hope of getting out before I'd done three years. This is only three."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Margo admitted.
"You haven't heard anything?"
"Not a thing."
Conway lapsed into silence again. He knew that the money had to be connected with his release in some way. But how? Did the law think he was foolish enough to lead them right to it? If so they'd made a big mistake in releasing him. He wasn't about to play bloodhound for the bulls.
He forced his mind blank so that he might enjoy the rest of the ride. Just the feel of wind in his face made him feel alive. He pinched one of Margo's breasts.
They came into Chicago on the Southwest Highway and transferred onto a freeway leading into town. As far as Conway could see, not much had changed in his absence. The Windy City was about as dirty as usual, and certainly the smell was the same. Despite all its shortcomings he loved the joint. It was hard to pin down a reason for his feelings. Perhaps it was the excitement. There was always something doing.
Conway looked at Margo as she headed north along the outer drive. "Just where the hell are you going?" he asked.
"To my place. Any objections?"
Conway couldn't think of any and he said so. "I'll hang around a few days and then find a place of my own."
"You'll stay longer than that," Margo said gently. "How so?"
She looked over at him, her face wreathed in a smile. "I haven't had time to tell you but my plans are for us to get married. I don't want you in anyone's bed but mine."
CHAPTER THREE
Her unexpected statement had the effect of a bucket of cold water poured over Conway's head. He sucked in his breath, wondering if he'd heard right. "You serious?" he asked when he found his voice.
Margo nodded. "Perfectly. Does it surprise you?"
He had to be honest. "A little."
"I love you, Steve," she said soberly. "I suppose I have ever since that first night in the back seat of your car. The only answer for us is marriage."
For her that might be the answer, Conway reflected. Not for him. No one in their right mind ever got hooked. Why bother sticking to one dame when there were so many floating around? He found himself cursing women and their screwy emotions. Every time they got themselves tickled they figured they were in love. He knew that sensation was worthless. Certainly he'd never felt it.
But Conway was no dope. He realized that if Margo was thinking this way he could be walking on thin ice. Supposing he told her how he felt? There was a strong chance she'd stop the car and let him walk the rest of the way into town. What then? He didn't have a place to stay ... or any money for that matter, other than the crummy fifty he'd been given at the prison. Chicken feed.
There were other considerations. Conway glanced at the outline his hand made beneath her dress. It didn't make sense to go chasing around when he had it made at home. Why not catch up on her and then move out?
Conway decided to play along for the time being. "When you figure to do this marriage bit?" he asked.
"Is there any hurry?" Margo said. "I thought you could get your feet on the ground first."
That suited Conway perfectly. This way he could string along in a manner of speaking.
Margo skirted the loop and headed straight into the Gold Coast, a collection of buildings fronting the lake where the rent started at three hundred. Just short of Chicago she turned left and dove across the busy Michigan Boulevard traffic. Three blocks further on she slowed and turned into the basement garage of a plush-looking apartment house.
"Who we visiting?" Conway grunted as they slid from the light into the shadows.
"I live here." Margo corrected herself, "Or we do."
Conway reflected that this little girl had come a long way from the third story hovel he'd left her in three years back. No wonder she hadn't had time to visit him upstate.
When she'd parked the car, he slid out and opened Margo's door for her. She stepped onto the concrete with a great show of leg that Conway found hard to tear his eyes away from. "You like that, don't you?" Margo smiled.
"Yeah," he agreed.
She rubbed herself and made a face. "I'm sore."
"You'll hurt a lot worse before I get through," Conway growled.
Margo came close and kissed him gently, liking the way his hand felt caressing her buttocks, wishing her dress weren't in the way. "Come on," she said at last, leading him through the labyrinth of concrete toward a self-service elevator.
Once inside the security of the machine, she brought herself to him and kissed him without reserve, her body and tongue telling 'him exactly what she wanted. "I want you, Steve," she whispered.
"Soon," he promised.
"Now ... here." She emphasized the demand by tugging her dress to the waist and pulling open the bodice of the cloth, letting her breasts spill into view.
"Careful," Conway cautioned. "Someone might want to get on."
"To hell with them," Margo said sullenly.
Again, Conway reflected, that rough language. What kind of company had the woman been keeping? With Margo around he constantly felt like the man on the dance floor being led by his partner. Just once he would have enjoyed taking the initiative.
This time he was saved by the bell, or at least the door opening onto die floor she'd selected. He would have expected her to button up a little, considering they were stepping out into public. She did let the skirt fall into place. But' at the same time she stripped out of the blouse and walked bare-breasted down the hall. Conway had to admit he enjoyed watching those big boobs bounce around. If there'd been a purpose to her maneuver she succeeded. His temperature shot up.
Margo opened the door to her apartment, and he followed her through the opening. The first thing that hit him was the plushness of the joint. There was the whole bit, wall to wall carpeting, fancy furniture and drapes, a fireplace, and lots of room. "Some place," he commented. "How the hell do you pay the rent?"
Margo walked to a bar set along one wall. "How do you suppose?"
Conway was afraid that he knew the answer to that one. "Won't I throw a crimp in your activities?" he said somewhat bitterly.
Margo poured them both a drink, shaking her head. "Not at all. I just have a few friends, and they won't take much time."
Conway moved to the window, thinking over what she'd said. Just what kind of a set up was he walking into? There was a name for the kind of man he'd be if he stood for what she suggested. Still, he thought it best to hold off his criticism.
He pulled back the drape and looked outside. They were on the 'tenth floor, and the view was magnificant. The lake spread out before him in a panorama of spring color. Closer by, Lincoln Park had its first coating of green. Conway really began to feel free for the first time.
"Here's your drink," Margo said from behind him.
Conway turned into the room and saw the woman seated on the couch. She'd removed what little remained of her dress. Her naked body gleamed in the dull light. "You certainly aren't very modest, are you?" he smiled.
"Is there any reason to be?"
"I guess not," Conway chuckled. As he walked toward her she leaned against the back of the couch and her breasts arched upwards from the position, each enlarged tip pointing directly at him. At the same time she placed her hands at her thighs and drew them up wards, the red nails in vivid contrast to her tanned flesh. For a moment her hands blocked off his view, then with tantalizing slowness she let them move her legs, bringing everything into view. At that point she began a rhythmic pulsation, as if he were already against her. When a strand of her long hair covered one nipple she impatiently brushed it aside, as if she wanted him to see all of her.
Conway had begun to sweat. "Where's that drink?" he asked huskily, wondering why in the hell he worried about such a thing at this moment.
Her eyes sullenly on his, Margo reached out and picked up the filled glass without looking at it. Then, with complete deliberateness, she emptied the contents on her body beneath her chin.
He watched, transfixed, as some of the liquor flowed down between the cavity of her breasts, over her navel and downward.
"You'll have to drink it second hand," Margo smiled.
Conway was silent. He bent down and licked her flesh like a cat after cream. The whisky, along with the salt of the woman spun his head.
"Do it now," she whispered, tugging at his clothes.
Conway need no urging. He tore off his clothes and jumped her in animal heat. With one motion he took her. She screamed in ecstasy, and he struck again, damning the fact that she couldn't do more.
Halfway through the act Margo fell off the couch. He followed her down, not missing a beat, driving at her with all his strength, urged on by her sexual ravings. When she cried out that she'd peaked, Conway paid no attention. He kissed her, drew the wind from her lungs, drew at her breasts and brought her back again until she cried for more.
For better than twenty minutes Conway beat that slender body with his, pinned to her by a force that gathered more strength by the minute. They were soaked in sweat. Her hair was plastered to her head. Moisture trickled from her breasts, and her belly, grinding against his, was hot.
When she peaked again her nails dug cruelly into his bare back, and she pleaded for him to stop. Conway laughed wildly and pulled her more tightly to him, now running his fingers through her legs from the rear, now drawing at a breast until the nipple threatened to pop off in his mouth.
Conway put every one of his frustrations into that lengthy session until the woman's strength failed her and she lay limp beneath him, unable any longer to answer the commands of his body.
Then and only then did he let himself go.
Margo felt him shudder and found new strength to press against him. Her face flushed again, and she cried out in ecstasy, clamping her mouth over his, trying to gain more from him. They seemed to cling forever, until she was sure she could stand no more.
And when it was finished she collapsed on the floor in pleasant shock.
Conway waited a few minutes and then got up. He was proud of himself. He'd shown Margo what a real man was like.
He'd lighted a cigarette and was seated in the chair when she opened her eyes. "You were wonderful," she sighed. "You almost killed me."
"That'll teach you to tease," Conway growled.
Margo got to her feet unsteadily. She kissed him, but there was little feeling in the embrace. "I think I'll go to bed," she announced. "Are you coming?"
He shook his head. "I thought I'd make a few calls and perhaps do some visiting. Mind?"
Margo stood looking down at him, the marks of their recent activities evident from the bruises on her skin. "Of course not. You'll need some money. Take what you need from my purse. You'd better take the key. And when you come in don't wake me up."
Conway grinned. "Not at all?"
She made a face and headed for the door that was obviously the bedroom. "I've been a busy girl these last two days," she reminded him, speaking over her shoulder. "We'll take up where we left off tomorrow."
After she'd gone, Conway fixed himself another drink and sipped it in the conventional manner. He was frankly puzzled concerning Margo. Of course there was the obvious change in her that he didn't like in the least bit. She'd been acting the tramp ever since she'd picked him up at Joliet.
But it was the money that bothered him the most. Not once had she mentioned it. That didn't seem in the least natural.
He glanced around the fancy room, wondering if forty thousand meant so little to her. And on top of everything else she'd offered him her own dough.
Conway lighted a cigarette and scratched his chin in confusion. Was it possible that she didn't know about the money? That hardly seemed likely considering everyone else did. After all, hadn't it been in all the papers at 'the time of the trial? He could still see the headlines: BANK BANDIT REFUSES TO TELL WHERE FORTY THOUSAND HIDDEN.
Conway paced the room, deep in his own thoughts. Perhaps Margo was a better catch than he'd considered. There weren't many women who would keep their traps shut for so long.
At that, his first two days had been far different than he'd anticipated. First there'd been the matter of sex. He'd planned on having his first helping under far better circumstances than that crummy motel back in Joliet.
But mostly he'd figured to be hounded to death about the missing dough. So far not one soul outside of the warden had mentioned it.
Right now Conway decided he needed other company than a dame. He found a clock and saw it was a little after seven. In another hour the boys would be gathered at Clancy's bar.
Then he remembered what Margo had said about the old gang, that they'd all gone stright. This time he dismissed her talk as hogwash. Of course they'd be there. They'd know that Steve Conway, their leader, was out and ready for action.
Spurred on by his thoughts Conway dipped into Margo's purse and extracted a hundred bucks and the key. Then, with a silent tip of his invisible hat in the direction of her bedroom, he hot-footed it from the apartment. He was off to have a damned good time.
In two hours Conway had managed to squeeze in a haircut, shave, and some new clothes. He sat in the back of the cab, humming to himself as they headed for Clancy's. It was odd, he thought, how free he felt now that he was out of Margo's grasp. There was something about that woman that really bugged him. Maybe it was because she kept spreading herself over him like an invisible cloak.
It was odd how he felt about Margo now. There had been a time when he'd really been hot for her. In fact, during his stay in prison, he'd been damned anxious to take up where they'd left off. Of course he'd kept seeing her as she used to be. In the old days the woman suited him to a T. The reason was that he'd trained her that way. When they'd first met she hadn't even been too sure of what sex was. In fact he doubted if she'd ever seen a man.
It had only been after that first session in the back of the car that he'd been able to bring her along, show her the proper way to make a man happy. Conway happily remembered those six months when her only thoughts had been to climb into his sack.
Of course she'd come up with the standard guff about loving him. That's always the crutch a woman uses when she has hot pants. He'd gone along and lied a little so that she wouldn't cool down too much.
But now the shoe was on the other foot. It was Margo who'd been teaching him new tricks. He hardly knew this woman. She was crude and demanding and lacking of even the minimum standards of modesty.
Conway realized he had no real reason to complain. He'd wanted sex when he was sprung and he'd had it ... in large quantities. Still, he felt uneasy about the whole business.
The driver turned off the drive and onto 55th, threading his way through the heavy traffic, alternately cursing and using his brakes. "Place sure has changed," he said over his shoulder, trying to make conversation with his silent passenger.
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "It has." The line of cheap buildings along the road were gone, replaced by modern apartment houses and shops with fancy exteriors. "What the hell happened?"
"Urban renewal," the driver grunted. "The big-wigs figured as how the University of Chicago was so close they should clean the joint up. I think it looks like hell."
Conway had a sudden fear that Clancy's might have been swept away in the rush for efficiency. His thoughts proved groundless. They emerged from the section of neat, concrete buildings into a jungle of brownstone tenements in the space of less than a block. Here Conway felt suddenly at home. This was where he'd been born and raised. He watched the kids playing on the sidewalks, skipping among the overturned garbage cans and scratching their names on anything they could find just as he'd done so many years ago. Laundry flapped from the open windows and small clusters of people relaxed together on the many fire escapes to escape the heat of the spring night. The only change that Conway could see was the addition of the many colored families. It looked as if segregation here meant keeping the white man out.
The driver made one more turn and slid to the curb in front of a dirt-encrusted building housing a bar with the name, CLANCY'S, barely visible over the front door. "You sure you want out here, kid?" he asked. "This is a damned tough neighborhood. They'll chew up a dude like you and spit out the pieces."
Conway chuckled as he handed over a fin. "I was born here, Mac," he said. "I think I can handle myself."
The driver pocketed the money and shrugged. "Suit yourself, but this ain't no place to come home to."
Conway stood on the sidewalk for a minute after the cab had roared off and took in the stink of the place. It was exactly as he remembered, right down to the smell.
Nor had the bar changed. He walked into the dimly lighted room and took a seat in one of the booths along the wall. The place was crowded, and he suddenly fek out of place in his new red-plaid sport jacket. Most of the guys were wearing short-sleeved shirts.
A young girl wearing slacks and a blouse cut almost to her navel came up to his table and gave him a dirty look. "You'd better sit at the bar, friend," she snapped. "These tables are saved for the couples."
Conway ignored her command. "Is Clancy here?" he asked.
She made a business of wiping off the table, and as she leaned over a great amount of breast came into view. They weren't too big, but they were certainly chewable. "He's busy," she said, obviously annoyed at his staying.
"Supposing you tell him that Steve Conway is here and would like to see him. And while your about it bring me a tall whiskey.
The girl straightened up and there was new respect in her expression. "Are you Steve Conway?" she asked.
That was more like it, he thought. "Yeah," Conway agreed, puffing a little. "That's me."
The young girl smiled broadly. "Why I know all about you. Everybody down here does. You're a celebrity in these parts. When did you get out?"
Conway idly wondered how she could know so much about him. From the looks of her she'd been in high school when he'd been sent up. "A few days ago," he said, in answer to her question.
"You're our hero," the girl said proudly.
"Whose?"
"The new Southsiders. I'm their girl friend."
"That must keep you pretty busy," Conway said pointedly.
She caught the drift and smiled even more broadly. "I'm a big girl. Besides, I like plenty of company." She took a step toward him, her intention made clear by the look in her eye. "I could even make time for you."
The thing that hit Conway a jolt was the extreme youth of the girl to be passing herself around so freely. She was hardly more than nineteen. Sure, there'd been dames attached to the gang when he ran it, but they hadn't been so young ... or had they? Upon reflection Conway had to admit that they had. It was he who had aged. "What about this gang?" he asked, changing the subject quickly before he was tempted.
"Yours broke up when you were caught," the girl explained. "Just last year a bunch of the guys around here decided to start it up again." Her eyes glistened with excitement as she talked. "We've had a lot of swell rumbles. Just last week we made a shambles of the Dragons."
Listening to her talk should have made Conway feel like old times. Instead he found himself aging, dunking of what she was telling him as kid stuff. If his intention in coming back here had been to recapture his youth he'd wasted his time.
But that youth was only three years back. It was he who was thinking like an old man. Conway lighted a cigarette, wondering how prison could have made him so ancient so soon.
"Do you mind if I go round up the gang and tell them you're here?" the girl was saying. "They'll want to talk to you."
Why not, Conway thought. Maybe he could give them some pointers. "Sure," he agreed. "Go ahead. But tell Clancy I'm here before you blow."
The girl nodded at a short, fat figure heading their way. "He already knows." She gave him a final smile and vanished through the crowd.
Clancy extended his hand while he was still ten feet from the table, shifting his cigar to the other side of his chubby face. "I'll be damned," he spat. "If it ain't Steve Conway. I sure as hell am glad to see you. When was you sprung?"
Conway grasped the sweaty hand. "A few days ago. I came over as soon as I could."
"Glad you did boy," Clancy enthused. "Glad you did. The joint ain't been the same without you and the other fellas and your sexy broads."
"I hear there's a new gang sprung up."
The heavy figure made a wry face. "They're not like you boys were. No class. That's what's missing these days, class. What the hell, they pinch a few things and don't even have organization enough to sell the haul. That's not the way you handled it. I never seen such a smooth operation as you had."
"Until I got caught," Conway reminded him somewhat bitterly.
Clancy squatted on the table, leaning closer until beady eyes bored into the younger man. "A fluke. That's all that was. Just a fluke. Shorty never was much good. If you hadn't gotten hooked up with him you'd have been all right." He shrugged expansively.
"But what the hell, those breaks happen to everyone." He looked at the empty table in front of Conway. "Ain't you drinking?"
"No one's offered me anything yet," Conway grinned.
"We'll fix that." Clancy snapped his finger in the air and the bartender came over. "Fix Steve here with anything he wants," Clancy said. "It's on the house as long as he wants to guzzle. The fat man turned back to Conway. "We'll call it a celebration."
"Thanks," Conway said.
When the drinks came Clancy downed his in one gulp. "You got any plans?" he asked. "Not a one," Conway admitted.
"I guess you ain't in no hurry about going back to work. Money's one sweat you don't have." He jabbed Conway's arm with his hand and winked broadly. "If you know what I mean," he added.
Conway knew damned well what Clancy meant. This was the first direct reference to the money anyone had made to him since he'd been released.
The fat man broke into Conway's thinking. "If you was thinking of making an investment I could let you have a piece of the bar, even a piece of the broads."
"I'll think about it," Conway promised, stalling. "Any idea of where I might get some work?"
"If you're nuts enough to want to slave I suppose I could fix you up. A man with your experience is always in demand."
"I don't want petty stuff."
"Sure you don't," Clancy agreed. "You're big-league now. I'll have a look around and see what I can dig up. I still know a few of the wheels."
"Do that," Conway urged.
"Tell me," Clancy said, his voice suddenly turning confidential. "Just what did happen at that bank job?"
Conway wished the chubby figure hadn't brought up the subject. He'd spent a lot of time trying to forget that day when everything had gone wrong. But he could see from Clancy's interest that he'd have to tell him something. Conway ordered another drink and got rid of it, liking the sharp sting in his throat. "You read about it in the papers," he said. "Shorty went into the bank and left me at the curb in the car with the engine running. A few minutes later he comes out of that building like he had a firecracker on his tail. Next I saw the guard standing in the doorway. He supported his gun on the frame and got off one shot at Shorty." Conway shrugged. "That was it. Shorty went down in one big lump. Next thing I knew the guard was shooting at me, and I got the hell out of there. Two miles down the road they caught up with me."
Saliva seemed to drool from Clancy's thick lips. "But the sack with the forty grand. Did it get tossed into your car before Shorty got hit or did some clown make off with the stuff and leave you holding an empty bag?"
Conway smiled and sipped his third drink. He'd just been asked the sixty-four dollar question, one he had no intention of answering. "I wouldn't know," he said simply.
Anger crossed Clancy's face. "I don't like to be kidded," he growled.
Conway made an attempt at soothing the fat man. Clancy was no man to have on the opposite you. He had more connections than a switchboard and could be mighty useful in a pinch, even for some sex.
"Now. Clancy," Conway said slowly. "You don't really expect me to tell you everything, do you? If I have the money I'll spend a big bundle in here. If I don't...." He shrugged. "Then you'll just have to get me a job so I can help support you."
Clancy stared at the younger man across from him for a minute, absorbing the double-talk answer. Then he broke into a rich laugh and slapped Conway on the back. "You joker," he spat. "I always said you was the smartest of the bunch. If you got that dough you keep it. I think three years in stir is worth about forty grand." He winked, adding, "Only leave a little behind you in my direction." He rose ponderously to his feet, looking around at the crowd which had thickened considerably during their talk. "I got to go to work," he announced. "You stick around and have a ball. When Dolly comes back I'll give her the night off. She's a damned good tumble. You take her out and gave her a few for me."
Conway leaned back in the booth and relaxed. The alcohol helped. He stared around him at the activity, and it felt good to be back in circulation. The thing he'd always liked about Clancy's was its informality. The fat man was in good with the cops, and he got away with murder. The chances were better than even that right now a game was going on in the back room.
Things out front were going pretty good too, Conway reflected. A few couples danced, if you could call it that, to the music of the juke box. The twist had just been coming in when he'd temporarily left society. Here he saw new variations in their uncensored glory.
Conway watched a dark-haired girl do her best. She wiggled everything there was to shake, from her fanny on up. He debated whether she was wearing a bra and decided against it. Her big breasts were a blur of movement against the tight-fitting sweater. Even though he was seated several yards away from the activity, his temperature jumped a little when the girl spun around a few times. For what seemed like a pleasant eternity her skirt stood straight out from the narrow waist. She wore no stockings and her panties must have been made of cellophane. Her partner took immediate action at her brief exposure. He moved in, touching and kissing her at the same time. That was the end of their dance, and they retired to a back booth for more privacy.
Conway was still thinking this over when he realized he was no longer alone. He looked up into the coldest pair of eyes he'd ever seen. He smelled cop.
"You are Steve Conway?" the newcomer said. It was more statement than question.
"Yeah," Conway agreed, making no offer for him to sit down. "What's it to you?"
The tall man squatted onto the seat across the table from Conway. His eyes burned a hole through the younger man. "I thought I might find you here," he said.
"So you found me," Conway snapped. "Now tell me what this is about or get lost."
The stranger lighted a cigarette with what seemed like deliberate slowness. He blew smoke directly into Conway's face. "I'm an insurance investigator. I thought perhaps it was time you and I had a little talk about forty thousand dollars."
CHAPTER FOUR
Conway had wondered from what direction his first contact would come. Now he knew. "You have a name?"
"Don't get smart with me, punk," the man snapped. "The name's Harry Smith, and I'm used to dealing with dime-store hoodlums and rape artists."
It seemed that this Harry Smith was overly touchy, Conway reflected. He had to struggle with himself not to get angry with the man. Steve was curious about the deal. This could be the time when he could find out why he'd been sprung so soon. "I don't suppose you'd care for a drink?"
Smith threw some change onto the table. "I'll buy it," he growled. "I choose my company carefully."
The silence between them was strained as they waited for one fresh drink and a refill. When the whisky came Smith drank his quickly. His eyes never left Conway. "You have forty thousand dollars," he said evenly. "I want it."
"You mean your company wants it," Conway corrected, leering at the waitresses buttocks.
Anger crossed Smith's face. It vanished quickly as he nodded. "I suppose you could say that. Are you going to give it to me?"
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"Don't you think I'd be a damned fool for handing over all that dough over after having spent three years earning it?"
"You were put in prison for stealing it. There was no salary attached."
"Supposing," Conway began, toying with his cigarette. "Just supposing I did have this money as you seem to suspect. Now let's say that I was to give up half of it. Would that satisfy your company?"
Smith shook his head. "No dice. It's all or nothing."
Conway shrugged and finished his drink. "Now that is too bad. I guess you'll just have to take nothing." He was deliberately baiting the insurance man.
Smith's voice became suddenly brittle. "Look, punk," he shot back. "You don't have any choice. You're a loser whether you know it or not. I've looked up your record and you've been nothing but a trouble maker since you crawled out of your crib. You'll do something stupid and wind up right back in the can." He leaned forward over the table, the expression of his eyes menacing. "We want that money."
"I don't think you're going to get it." Conway added hastily, "That is, if I have it."
Smith gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles shown white. "Don't fool around with us," he warned. "We have plenty of ways to get what we're after. Like I said, you're a loser. You have exactly ten days to give me forty thousand dollars or you'll wind up back in prison with your parole revoked."
Conway had wanted to know why he'd been released. Now he knew. The discovery took some of the wind from his sails. He should have known that the insurance company had enough power in the state to have him released so they could get another crack at him. "Is this the freshest news you have?" he asked, trying hard not to show how much he'd been shook.
Smith got to his feet. "Remember, ten days. I'll be dropping in on you from time to time."
Conway watched the man go through the door and then sank back against the booth. Up until tonight it had been a ball. Now, threatened with a fresh prison sentence, he didn't feel so good. The screws had been put on him, but hard.
Before Conway had time to reflect much on this latest turn of events the young girl returned to his table. She'd changed her clothes. The slacks were gone, replaced by a loose fitting wrap-around skirt. Her deep, V-necked blouse had been replaced by a simple, buttoned black one.
"A few of the fellas will be along in a little while," she explained. "They told me to keep you company until they got here." She sat across from him and ordered them both another drink. "Clancy also gave me the night off." The color in her cheeks heightened. "He said you were going to take me to bed."
"That was his idea," Conway growled. "Not mine."
"You don't think I could do you good?"
"I didn't say that."
"I should think it would be wonderful to have a man who hasn't had a woman in so long a time," the young girl said dreamily.
Conway attempted to change the subject. "Just what is your name?"
"Dolly."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Where the hell are your folks?"
The girl absent-mindedly fingered the top button of her blouse. "Oh, they live down the street a ways. Dad's drunk most of the time, and my mother keeps things going by taking on a man every now and then. I help out all I can by giving Clancy a hand in here when he needs it. The gang is pretty good about giving me money too. We do all right"
Listening to her was like a recording of his own childhood, Conway reflected. "How'd you get hooked up with the gang?"
"I was bored. To tell you the truth I was a prude. I didn't date. I hated men when they looked at my legs. Then one night at a party something happened."
"What?"
Dolly was fingering the third button now. The other two were unfastened and only three were left. The mounds of her breasts had begun to show. "I went to a party," she continued. "It was a real wild party. You know the kind they have around here."
Conway knew. He'd been to a few.
"Most of the other girls got drunk and let the boys do real wicked things to them. I stayed dressed. We all got into a discussion as to how many men a woman could take. I desperately wanted to be the life of the party so I bragged I could take every boy there." Dolly sighed, fingering her drink. "They put me on the ping pong table and took off my clothes. I remember laying there naked with all those people looking down at me. I was ashamed but too afraid to back out. Then a boy touched me. I'd never been touched like that and I liked it." Dolly shrugged. "I don't remember much after that, except those other girls screaming at the boys to do a good job." She smiled. "They did a fine job. After the first two or three I wanted more and more. They told me the next day that seven boys had done it before I passed out."
"And you've been doing it ever since?"
"It's like a drug," Dolly said soberly. "Every time I let a boy do it to me I swear it will be the last time. But the next day I feel all sort of anxious and have to have more."
Dolly's story had made Conway feel strange. Wasn't this exactly what he'd done to Margo? She'd been a virgin when they'd met, and now look at her. He angrily forced the thought from his mind. Dames had to learn to look out for themselves. He stared at the young girl across from him. Even now she was asking for it in spades. Her blouse was unfastened to the waist. He reached over and flicked the cloth a little out of the way, exposing one mound until it plunged into the narrow bra.
"You can take it out," Dolly suggested softly. "No one pays any attention to things like that around here."
Conway looked about them. It was true, not one eye was in their direction. He lifted the breast free of its confinement and covered it with his hand. It was soft and tender, and the nipple was small with a large, darker circle surrounding it. "Nice," he said, knowing that he should say something.
Dolly pressed her hand to his, forcing his fingers more tightly against her bosom. "I'm glad you like it," she smiled. "That's important."
"Why?"
"If a man likes my breasts he'll do a much better job when he takes off the rest of my clothes." She looked down at herself and lifted the fullness from beneath, fingering the tip. "They aren't too big, but the boys say that they make good handles."
Conway felt uncomfortable. It didn't seem right that she should be hanging out like that in public. He tucked the breast back into the bra and pulled the blouse together. "Where is this gang of yours?" he asked, glancing at the clock over the bar.
"They'll be along," Dolly promised. "Let's have another drink and we can dance."
Two whiskies later found them out on the floor. The music had slowed considerably, and Conway was able to manage quite well, considering he'd never been much of a dancer. Dolly struck to him like glue, keeping herself pressed against him until he could feel the movement of her legs. He could feel her whole body and it was tempting.
"You're strong," she said at last, smiling up at him.
All the liquor Conway had consumed had gone to his head. The room was swimming a bit. "How can .you tell?"
"You're snuggled right up to me. "All you have to do is pick me up and lay me down."
"Right here I suppose."
"I wouldn't mind," Dolly said softly. "It's been done before. Clancy calls it his floor show. He pays ten dollars to the couple with the nerve."
"And you could use ten bucks?"
"I wouldn't turn it down."
Conway realized that he'd been wrong earlier in the evening. Clancy's had changed. It was a much rougher joint than he remembered. He took the young girl by the arm and guided her back toward the table. There was a drink waiting, and he consumed it quickly. Now he was drunk. "Where the hell is that gang?" he spat. His voice came out thick.
Dolly sat with her feet away from the table so that he could see the legs she'd exposed by tugging her skirt three quarters of the way up her thighs. "I've a confession to make," she said slowly.
"What's that?"
"They won't be here. I just wanted to hold you until I was able to change into something sexy."
"Well maybe I can meet them tomorrow night," Conway suggested. He felt like the returning war hero anxious to recount his experiences.
Dolly shook her head. "I'm sorry, Steve," she said softly. "They don't care about you. To them you're a has-been."
"I thought you said I was their hero?"
"I lied," Dolly said bluntly. "You're my hero. That's all. I've listened to everyone on the block talk about you for years, and I guess I have a complex."
Conway didn't quite know what to say. In any case he was too drunk to say it.
Dolly leaned closer to him, hiking her skirt up a few more inches and uncrossing her legs. "Let's go over to the park," she suggested softly. "I know a dark spot where we can do it all night. I'm hot and ready."
Conway was damned tired of being propositioned. Dolly was Margo all over again. If he stayed around her long enough he knew she'd even use the same language. For once he wished it was he who'd been making the advances.
And at the same time Conway had a moment of clarity through the alcoholic fog. The girl across from him was just a kid, an eighteen-year-old youngster who should be home listening to records instead of being down at a bar on the make
"You're angry with me," Dolly said suddenly, seeing the expression in his face.
Conway waved his hand in the air. "Hell no," he said thickly. 'Nothing like that at all." He ignored her stare of panic as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He felt a sudden desire to get the hell out of here. He'd had it ... right up to the neck.
As Conway weaved toward the door he heard Dolly's voice calling after him. And at the same time he saw a couple going down on the dance floor, starting to earn their ten bucks.
It was all Conway needed. He exploded from the bar as if afraid the nightmare he'd left behind might catch up.
Conway walked through eight of the toughest blocks in Chicago before his head began to clear. Only then did he start to think straight. So far it had been one hell of a night, he decided. Some homecoming.
At the same time Conway was a little confused concerning himself. Just why in the hell had he turned Dolly down? It was the first time in his life that he'd ever pushed sex away from him. Was he turning into some kind of nut?
For a moment he debated going back to the bar and taking the young girl up on her offer. What harm could come from laying her a few times? It might even make him feel better.
Conway resisted the temptation. It might have been different if he'd been on the make rather than her.
The trouble was that Dolly had stirred up his hormones, and now there wasn't any outlet. It might be that he'd have to get back to Margo sooner than he'd intended.
Conway drew in a deep breath, trying to hurry along the sobering-up process. He lighted a cigarette and looked around him to get his bearings. He was on the long, narrow strip of parkway called the Midway. On either side he could see the dimly lighted buildings of the University of Chicago. Having nothing better to do he began walking toward the lake which he knew was at one end of the park.
Conway thought over his problems and didn't like any of them. There was the matter of the money. Was he going to be forced to give it back? That insurance man had seemed determined. He'd probably meant it when he'd given him only ten days.
Not much time, Conway thought. He had to do something.
But what? He certainly didn't want to go back to prison. Nor did he want to give up the dough. It was a stalemate.
Conway wondered if the money was safe where he'd left it. He knew he should have gone to the place right away and made certain. Still, that wouldn't have been very smart. It could be that he'd been watched. The thought brought a smile to Conway's lips. If he was being followed he was giving his shadow quite a show.
He looked around him again, straining to hear anything. Finally, deciding there was no one around here but himself he continued on his way.
There was the matter of Dolly's so-called gang. What the hell did they mean by calling him a has-been? This thought brought up the bristles on the back of Conway's neck. He was as good a man as ever, and he'd prove it to those punks.
And just how could he do that? At the moment Conway didn't have any ideas. Just the same he made a vow to himself that he'd show them.
Of course he could always rob another bank. Somehow that seemed a little drastic at the moment.
Conway walked along slowly, absorbed in his thoughts. He didn't see the large building housing the Museum of Science and Industry on his right as he passed it.
Ahead of him was the outer drive, now filled with cars coming back from a late evening in the loop. Conway moved beneath the underpass, noting that all of the lights in the long tunnel had been knocked out. That was standard practice in this section. This was a great area for couples wishing to have a little privacy for sex ... if they could stand the stench.
When he came up on the other side the highway was behind him. Before him was another quarter block of thick bushes and trees and then the lake. Conway could hear the waves now as they beat against the shore. He made his way onto the huge granite boulders that made up the breakwater and stood there, feeling cold water splash in his face, watching the restless surface beat against the rock. He remembered the many times he'd swum off this spot during the long, hot summers.
But none of this was solving any of his problems. Conway turned to go hunt himself up a cab.
He'd gotten as far as the bushes when he heard movement in the tunnel he'd just left. Conway knew this area only too well. Standing out here alone he made a perfect target for anyone wanting to crease his skull and take his wallet. He quickly stepped off the path into the protection of the shrubbery.
The footsteps came closer, and Conway held his breath. Much to his surprise the newcomer wasn't a man but a woman. Walking slowly she passed within feet of where he was hiding. Light from the nearby highway splashed over her face and hair and the effect was of somber beauty, topped by golden hair that streamed out in back, pushed by the wind off the lake.
Conway sucked in his breath as he had a brief glimpse of her big breasts pressing against a black sweater. They were something.
As he watched, the woman climbed up on the boulder he'd left. For a long time she just stared out into the dark, oblivious of her dress being blown up around her thighs. The stocking-clad legs were absolute perfection. Once or twice the cloth rose above the limits of modesty and a pair of pink panties came into view.
Conway's lips were suddenly dry. The liquor he'd drunk, plus Dolly's teasing had had its effect. He discovered that he was hot to trot.
The girl out near the water didn't help matters much. She sat down on the rock, secure in the knowledge that she was alone, and started taking her stockings off. Even at this distance Conway could see the smooth flesh as she unrolled the nylons and put them in her purse. His eyes burned from staring at that strip of pink at her legs that prevented him seeing everything.
He was still a lot more drunk than he'd realized. Wild ideas persisted. Maybe he could prove to those punks that called themselves a gang that he wasn't a has-been. Not everybody has the guts to go out and rape a stranger. When they read about that they might show him a little more respect.
But rape. The thought of doing such a thing chilled Conway. Still, why not? If this dame was nuts enough to come down here alone she had it coming to her. Maybe she might even have been looking for it.
Conway had to admit that the idea appealed to him. It would be a novelty to take a woman who'd fight like a tiger instead of ripping off her pants first. His lips formed in a leer. It would be really something.
The girl had stood up now. As she faced the highway, light fell across her face. The features were small and delicate, belonging more to a girl than a woman. She turned and started slowly toward his hiding place.
Conway had to make a decision. Was he going to let her pass?
The woman made his mind up for him. Just opposite where he was crouched she paused and looked back in the direction from which she'd come. This close Conway had a damned good look at her bosom. He already pictured his teeth biting into one of those boobs.
He waited a few more seconds, hoping that she could not hear the pounding of his heart. Then, when she moved on, he swallowed his fear and stepped out behind her.
The rest was easy. Conway snaked his hands out and encircled her breasts, clamping his arms tight and pulling her body against him.
The reaction was immediate ... and loud. She screamed. Her cry was buried in the noise of traffic.
She was struggling now and Conway hung on gamely. He dug his fingers into her breasts and liked what he felt. He laughed drunkenly and kept her close to him so that she'd be unable to identify him later. Her hair in his face smelled sweet and fresh and drove him to greater frenzy.
Conway was enjoying himself. Laughing wildly he dragged the struggling woman into the shadows of the tunnel. Now he was faced with a problem. How the hell did he take her without her seeing who he-was? He wanted enough light to see what he was getting but not enough for her to see him.
The answer was obvious. He yanked at the hem of the sweater and pulled it over her head.
"Don't," the girl cried out, as if just realizing what he was up to.
"Quit fighting it," Conway snapped. "You'll make it easier on both of us."
"What ... what are you going to do?"
Conway was blunt. "Rape you, baby," he chuckled. "But good."
The woman screamed again and broke free of his grip.
Conway swore an oath and raced after her. She didn't get far. The sweater over her head blinded her, and she slammed into the wall. Momentarily stunned, she fell to the ground and he was on her, clawing at the clothing.
"Don't hurt me," the girl pleaded. She cringed as she felt his hands on her flesh.
Conway didn't hear her. He was alive with desire for the woman. Sweat poured down his face from his frenzied activity. For a moment he took time to see what he had. Plenty. With the sweater out of the way only her bra remained. Her heavy breathing repeatedly filled it to capacity with the breasts beneath. He grasped the edge of the cloth and tore the strap free, yanking the material away from her body.
Huge boobs, glorious, trembling, unlike any he'd ever seen before. He squeezed the one in the open until she cried in pain.
Not that the girl had quit struggling. She continued to kick her legs and fight and attempt to get the sweater clear of her face. But it was obvious she was growing weaker.
This was more like it, Conway thought as he leaned down and drew at a breast, nibbling the nipple between his teeth. As she fought him she only succeeded in getting more of her breast in his mouth. Conway didn't object. The skin had a sweet, salty taste that spun his head. He'd become a wild-eyed, sex-hungry animal who'd lost all reason. The girl was his prey.
Conway reached down and yanked her dress upward. She knew what was happening and cried out again, renewing her efforts to free herself.
The sight of her bared, attractive legs leading up into the tight, pink panties drove Conway to greater frenzy. He no longer had any control over himself. He touched her, running his hands over her. The girl stiffened and cried out in panic, as if just discovering her ultimate fate.
"I've got money," she whimpered. "Take it-Just don't do this to me."
Conway's answer was a gruff laugh. He pressed his hand up beneath her dress. When her belt prevented his getting at the edge of the panties he tugged them downward and slid his fingers beneath the elastic Her bared stomach was warm and trembling violently. The material gave as he went lower.
When he touched her the girl screamed again, at die same time clenching her legs together, trying to prevent his further progress.
Nothing did any good. The animal that was her attacker had been spurred on by her softness and warmth.
All strength gone, the woman sank against the ground. "Don't hurt me," she pleaded weakly. "Do it and go away."
But Conway didn't want her to surrender. He wanted her to fight him. She had to fight him. He wanted this to be one woman that battled him for every inch he took of her body. In a drunken, sex aroused lust he ripped her pants to shreds, exposing all of her body to the night air. He took a moment to look at what he'd done. Had he ever seen anything so beautiful? No. The breast in the open was massive, the nipple mounted upon the mound large from his efforts. Her skirt lay in a narrow mound about her waist. She was golden, the color of wheat in the field. He only wished he dared see how her face matched the rest of her.
But Conway was practical in his madness. They'd been here too long. Surely someone would come along and stop him before he'd finished. He had to do it ... now.
His fingers shook as he opened his clothing. No woman he'd known had ever brought him to this peak. Maybe this was the true way to love.
And when he touched the woman she cried aloud for the dozenth time. She fought with her only weapons, her fists pummeling his back, with useless blows.
Conway knew the moment of truth was at hand. He had to force her. Would the powers of sex overcome her fears.
Conway straddled the woman on his knees, kept her pinned down with his hands digging into her breasts. He drove himself at her, forcing her.
"No ... no ... no," the girl cried out, stiffening against his efforts. Her breathing was ragged and short.
Conway struck again, and this time he moved farther. He could feel himself progressing.
"Please don't," the girl repeated.
Conway wanted her now, more than he'd ever wanted a woman. He was on fire, and only she could put out the flames. When he moved her again, her resistance was less. Her body had begun to betray her. As he lifted up she followed him in the classical beginning of loving.
Her hands weren't fists any longer. Instead they dug into his back as if demanding something.
Conway sensed triumph. He placed his knees between hers and forced them apart. This time they gave quite easily.
She was whimpering now, damning her body that had gone against her.
When Conway went against her for a third time her hips rose to meet his. Their union was gentle, with none of the fire that had preceded it.
Conway felt a thousand pleasures as he moved to her body. But then he was surprised. The thought staggered him. The girl beneath him was still a virgin.
He held his breath, appreciating the moment. Only a few times in a liftime does a man experience such a privilege, that of being first.
Now it was the girl who was on the offensive. "Don't leave me like this," she pleaded. "Do it."
Conway's victory was complete. Like all women she needed man. Stars danced in his head as he bore down on her with all his strength. For a moment nothing happened. Then she cried out in pain, and her nails dug into him. She responded, totally, until their stomachs ground together.
"Be careful," the woman panted. Again her body defied her, making a mockery of the words she'd spoken. It pushed at him, tantalized him, sought his strength.
Conway had no control. He fought to prolong the pleasures he was receiving, but it was of no use.
Scarcely minutes after they'd mated he felt himself go, feeling her body tightly against his.
It was over, the passion spent. And with it a veil lifted, and Conway saw himself for what he was, a man lying on top of a stranger, a thug who raped strange women. He struggled to his feet and looked down at her. She hadn't moved to cover herself. Everything was the same. The only sound was that of the woman crying beneath that sweater. A desperate noise that shook Conway to his very roots.
He knelt down beside her. "I ... I'm sorry," he stammered.
"Go away," the woman sobbed. "Leave me alone."
Conway felt like hell. He hesitated a moment longer. Then, for reasons he didn't quite understand, he picked up her purse and extracted a card with a name on it from her wallet. That done, he pulled her skirt back into place and began to run, stopping only long enough to be sick.
CHAPTER FIVE
Conway woke up with a rancid taste in his mouth, something not unlike old socks. He lay on the bed, trying to get his bearings by staring up at the fly-specked ceiling.
When that didn't work he moved his head to one side. The view wasn't much better. Just a dirty curtain fluttering in front of an open window.
Where the hell was he? Conway searched his memory. Things came back that he wished he could suppress. There was Clancy's, then the lake and finally raping the girl. What after that?
He found his cigarettes, but in order to reach the pack he had to swing his feet over the edge of the bed. He lit one and enjoyed the first acrid taste of the day.
Now he was able to look out of the window. Still no help. The room was on a ventilator shaft, and all he could see were other dirty rooms across die way.
From the noise of an elevator he figured he was in some kind of a hotel. Where? A niche of memory came back. After taking the dame in the tunnel he'd flagged down a cab and asked to be taken to a place where he could sleep.
This had been the result. Conway looked around the place. Some taste that cab driver had. This joint was one step worse than the motel in Joliet.
He managed to get to his feet, fighting the waves of nausea passing over him. The bathroom had to be around here someplace. He found it by following the sounds of running water. For some reason he was plagued with faulty Johns lately.
Conway splashed his face and toweled himself off. That helped. He returned to the bed and sat down, staring at the phone, wondering if this joint had room service. There was only one way to find out, he decided. As luck would have it a tired voice told him they'd be happy to send up coffee.
Now he began to retrace his steps since leaving prison. He felt as if he were treading an endless belt. Nothing was ever really accomplished. At this rate he'd still be fumbling around when his ten days were UP Conway was too tired for such kind of thoughts. He dismissed most of them from his mind and concentrated on smoking a second cigarette.
The knock at the door told him the coffee had arrived. He opened the panel and accepted the tray gratefully. "Just where the hell am I?" he asked the young bellhop.
"It ain't the Ritz," the youth grinned. "Quit the wisecracks," Conway growled. "Does this place have an address?"
The bellboy accepted the two bucks he'd been given and grinned even more broadly. "You're at the Beverly. It's on the near North Side. Right around Kedzie and Madison." He handed a paper over to Conway. "I thought you might like this."
Conway closed the door and tossed the paper on the bed. The last thing in the world he was interested in was the news.
Ten minutes later he'd finished his coffee and had begun to feel pretty good. It was only then that he had the nerve to pick up the paper.
Conway's hands shook a little as he scanned the first page. He fully expected the news of the rape to be announced in blaring headlines.
Nothing.
Slightly relieved, Conway went through the rest of the paper in a hurry. He breathed a sigh when he saw no mention of what had happened the evening before. It began to look as if he was home safe.
Still it didn't make sense. He'd taken that dame good. Surely she'd gone screaming to the cops.
Conway thought over what he'd done, and he didn't feel proud of it. He'd been stupid. Supposing someone had come along. There would have gone the ball game.
And on top of everything else he'd been dumb enough to flag down a cab within three blocks of where he'd taken her.
Conway lit a cigarette, shaking his head, wondering how he could have been so nuts. With forty thousand at stake he'd acted like a two-year-old kid.
The worst part of the deal was the girl. He couldn't get her out of his mind. What was she thinking about today? Was she embarrassed or ashamed? Was she even alive? Maybe he'd killed her and she was still lying in that tunnel.
Conway went to the window and stared out at the wind shaft. He realized he was thinking wild thoughts. But deep down he knew he was feeling shame for the first time in his life. It was one thing being a crook but another taking advantage of a dame when she couldn't defend herself. Sweet talking a woman's pants off was within the rules. Raping her wasn't.
Conway could see into the room across the way and while he watched, a couple came in through the door. From this distance the woman looked young and quite attractive. He'd never seen anyone strip quite as fast. Within two minutes she was down to a loosened garter belt that dangled from her stockings. The last thing Conway saw before she pulled down the shade was a man's hand reaching through her legs from behind. It didn't take much imagination to know what happened next.
Conway turned back into his room, wondering if the whole world had gone sex-happy.
But he had problems of his own. His first move should be getting the hell out of this flea trap. If that cab driver talked, he'd lead the law right to him.
Conway dressed quickly then left the room and descended into the so-called lobby of the hotel. A few men sat around watching a beat up television show on a beat-up set. No one paid him any attention as he slipped through the front door onto the street.
Once in the open Conway took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the stench of the place he'd just left. He walked quickly down the street in search of a drug store and a pack of cigarettes.
He found what he was after and made his purchase. He was about to leave when he spotted the phone booth over in a corner. Conway debated whether to make a call or not. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to make sure his dough was still safe. It would be a sad laugh if all of his efforts had been for nothing.
Conway found a dime and looked up the number in the phone book. Finding what he was after he dropped the money into the slot and started dialing. Three rings later a sweet, sexy, feminine voice answered. Northside Storage," she said.
Conway took a deep breath before continuing. A great deal depended on this call. "This is Mr. Ryan," he said. "I left a package there for you to store three years ago. I plan on being in to pick it up in a day or so and want to make sure you still have it."
The girl on the phone was at the same time business-like and apologetic. 'Tim sorry, Mr. Ryan, but our policy is to sell at auction all goods left for more than a year."
A fine sweat broke out on Conway's forehead. "Look," he said, trying not to show his nervousness. "I made a deal with your Mr. Lake. I paid him five year's rent in advance."
"Oh," the girl said. "That is too bad. Do you have a receipt."
"My signature was to be my claim check."
If Conway was on the verge of panic the operator's next sentence almost sent him over the edge. "I'm afraid that won't do you much good," she said. "Mr. Lake died last year."
Conway had to grip the phone to keep from falling through the floor. Visions of missing hundred-dollar bills floated in front of him. "Are you sure?" he asked. His voice sounded strange.
The girl hesitated a moment He could hear her breathing into the mouthpiece as she thought over the problem. "Perhaps I'd better check. Please hang on."
Conway wondered if she was checking whether Lake was dead or if he still had a package in the place. In either case the next three minutes were an eternity.
When the girl returned, her voice had a freshness to it. "I saw our Mr. Myers," she said. "He took over Mr. Lake's job. Apparently you are correct. We do have a storage contract with you. As you say, well need your signature for identification. When will you pick it up?"
"Soon," Conway promised. It was all he could say. He hung up the phone, his clothes sticking to him from the sweat his body had developed. It had been close, mighty close. He blessed Northside Storage for being such an efficient organization.
Once out on the sidewalk again, Conway congratulated himself on his cleverness. Despite the close call everything was working out perfectly. Who in the world would have thought he'd stash the money in a commercial warehouse?
Actually it had been the only choice he'd bad. Conway thought back to that day when Shorty had come bursting out of the bank with that guard blasting away at him. Conway remembered being so scared "he'd damned near wet his pants. After all, up to that point his biggest crimes had been petty heists. Nobody shoots at you for that kind of stuff.
But there'd he'd been, right in the line of fire. His only thought had been to get away. In a dying gasp Shorty had called for him to stop, and Conway had. The little man had managed to toss the bag he was carrying in through the open window. At that point Shorty had collapsed onto the street and Conway had hit the gas.
He'd only gone a couple of miles when he realized he might get caught. If that happened he wanted to have something waiting for him when he got out.
The packing box piled beside some garbage cans had given him his big idea. He took the carton along with him and stuffed the money bag into the excelsior, unopened, then sealed the whole mess up and driven to a storage warehouse. As far as they'd been concerned he was just another stud.
Conway walked along the street, chuckling to himself at the perfection of the scheme. Not one cop or insurance man had tumbled to his idea.
Now he paused, working out his next move. Even though he hated the thought he knew he'd better return to Margo's place and get cleaned up. He only hoped she was as tired as he was.
As luck would have it Margo wasn't home. Conway moved through the apartment, hoping he wouldn't find her. He didn't.
He fixed himself a drink, kicked off his shoes, sat down on the couch and relaxed. It was then he saw the note propped up on the coffee table. He picked up the paper and scanned the neat handwriting. 'Where were you last night?' it read. 'I was lonesome. Have gone to repay an obligation. I may 'be late. If you're hot go take a swim. There's a pool in the patio and a suit in my bottom drawer ... Love, Margo."
Conway fingered the note, considering what it said. He wondered if this was the joker who owned the car. Better she should have rented one. It would have proved cheaper in the long run.
In a way he was sorry that she wouldn't be home. It seemed crazy, but he did like having her around. You had to say one thing about Margo, she was honest. If he ever was foolish enough to marry her, life certainly wouldn't be dull.
He again thought of the girl he'd raped the night before. The memory of her had hung over him all day like a black pall. He damned his foolishness for the umpteenth time. He'd done a lot of things in his short life, but nothing had ever bothered him so.
Conway solved the problem temporarily by pouring and drinking another whiskey. When he finished he reflected on the idea of a swim. It might not be such a bad idea at that. He was hot, and the thought of cool water was tempting.
The suit was where Margo had written it would be. He cleaned up, found a razor in her medicine chest and shaved. That done, he left her apartment and started out in search of the pool.
Finding the patio proved a great deal more difficult than it appeared on the surface. His first mistake was going down to the ground floor. No luck.
Now where the hell could a pool hide, he asked himself, feeling stupid standing in the first floor lobby in his swimming suit.
"Hey you, sonny," someone called out to him.
Conway bristled at the crack and looked up to find the source.
A stud with a fancy uniform and big brass buttons was coming toward him. He didn't look exactly happy. "I thought I told you guys you couldn't sneak in here and swim," the man growled when he came closer.
Conway had always been thin-skinned concerning his youthful appearance. There had been a time when he'd considered a mustache so he'd look older. Up to now he thought prison had done the job for him. "You talking to me, Mac?" he snapped.
"Now who else would I be talking to? the man said, his voice surly. "Beat it before I toss you out." He jabbed a thumb toward the entrance for added emphasis.
It wasn't easy but Conway held his temper. "Don't Mac me," he growled. "I'm staying here."
"They all say that."
Conway dangled the key to Margo's apartment beneath his nose. "I mean it."
The doorman stared from the key to Conway and back again. He was unsure of himself now.
Conway let him off the hook. He didn't want any fights. He was too tired. "Just tell me where the damned pool is and I'll get out of here all right," he said.
"I'm sorry," the man apologized. "I thought...." He changed the subject quickly. "The patio is on the roof. I would appreciate it if you'd take the back elevator. It's reserved for bathers."
Conway dug into his shorts and brought out a quarter, flipping it insolently toward the doorman. "Thanks, Mac," he grinned. "See you around."
The elevator was where it was supposed to be. And, as the doors opened onto the roof, so was the patio.
But still no pool. Conway moved onto the empty flagging, looking around. It was then he saw a fenced-in area to his left. That had to be it, he decided, heading that way.
It was. Conway saw the crescent-shaped water first. Then, as he looked around, he saw the girls. There were at least a dozen of them, some swimming, some sitting, others stretched out on the imported sand. A broad grin split his face. Damned if he hadn't wandered into the Garden of Eden, he thought.
Conway felt a little timid as he walked into the readymade harem. He found a chair and sat down, trying to ignore the giggling of several of the girls. The one closest to him, a red-haired beauty smiled a greeting.
"Hi," she said simply.
Conway lit a cigarette to cover his nervousness. "Hi yourself." He waved at the gathering of females. "What's this? Some kind of club?"
The young woman across from him shook her head. Her long hair brushed against her bare shoulders. "Nope. We're stewardesses. This is our Chicago home."
"I should fly more often," Conway grunted.
A luscious blonde lying on the sand a few feet away lifted herself on her elbows, looking at him. She'd undone her halter to get more sun. Most of her breasts came into view. Only the nipples remained hidden. "You're cute," she said. "You just move in?"
It was an effort for him to tear his eyes away from those big boobs. "You could say that," he agreed. "I'm staying with Margo Peters."
"Oh her," a black-haired girl seated on the edge of the pool murmured.
Conway devoted the next hour to fun and games. He didn't swim. Watching the girls was much more interesting. One by one he learned their names, but none of the handles stuck, only that of the redhead who'd spoken to him first. She was Linda.
These kids liked to let their hair down, and here, in the privacy of the fence-surrounded pool they did just that. It was hard for him to imagine any of them as very efficient things in uniform serving lunch on a plane.
It almost seemed to Conway that they were showing off for his benefit. It was as good as having a ring-side seat at a burlesque show. Better in fact. The bikini suits covered less territory than any stripper outfit.
As the afternoon wore on the girls began to vanish one by one, announcing that they had to get out to the airport, making certain Conway knew their room numbers for future reference.
Finally only Conway and the redheaded Linda were left. She hadn't moved from that chair since he'd arrived, keeping herself covered with a towel the whole time.
"Some gab," Conway grunted.
Linda smiled. "You missed a golden opportunity. There wasn't one of them that didn't want you for a bed partner."
"They sure like to live fast," Conway reflected out loud.
"Why not. If there's a chance of dying tomorrow you might as well get in your kicks today." Conway hadn't thought of it that way. "You feel the
.in..
Linda yawned languidly, sticking her knees from beneath the towel. They were nice legs. "I suppose I do," she admitted.
"Don't you have a plane to catch?"
"I'm off today," she explained. The girl looked at Conway intently. "Just what is your relationship with Margo?"
"Friend of the family," Conway grinned. "Oh, another one of those."
He caught the bitter tone of her voice. "Somehow I get the feeling you don't like Margo," Conway said.
Linda nodded. "That's right. You might even say I hate her guts. In fact we all do."
"How come?"
The girl sighed and patted some loose hairs into place. "Margo is just about the hottest tomato I've ever known," she said slowly. "She moved into the apartment house about two weeks ago and since then she's made more enemies than the Russians."
This was a surprise to Conway. Somehow he had the feeling Margo had lived here a long time. He said nothing, not wanting to interrupt the girl.
"I think she's had a man every afternoon and night since she came in," Linda went on. If she doesn't take one in her apartment, she does it in the car, or elevator or up here."
Conway couldn't see the point. "I don't see where that concerns you," he said.
Linda looked at him, her eyes flashing. "They're our men," she said angrily. Margo has snatched everyone of our boy friends away from us."
Conway was both amused and annoyed at the story. If he'd doubted before that Margo had changed he was sure of it now.
"Not only that," Linda said. "But last week Margo invited all of the men to her birthday party. No women. From what I hear it was nothing but a three-hour orgy in which she made the rounds as many times as she could before her strength gave out." She shook her head. "I can't stand a vulgar woman." She got to her feet and walked quickly to the edge of the pool. "I think I'll take a swim and cool off," she announced.
Conway watched as the girl hesitated long enough to cover her red hair with a bathing cap and then dive in. She swam the width and back and climbed out. He walked over to where she was sitting on the edge. Looking down at her he had a good view of the breasts. "How is it?" he asked.
"Fine. You ought to try it."
Conway did just that. He swam through the tepid water and returned, hanging onto the edge just in front of her. She seemed to be looking at him strangely.
"What are you doing up here anyway," Linda asked. "Waiting your turn?"
The truth of it was that was exactly what Conway was doing. The thought annoyed him. "I'm my own boss," he growled.
Linda smiled. "It would be something if I could beat Margo at her own game and take a man away from her for a change ... temporarily at least. Her fingers fiddled with the small bows that held the bottom of her suit in place.
"You propositioning me?" Conway grinned.
Linda bent over and kissed him. "Yes, I am," she admitted softly. When she straightened up half her suit was gone, the vital half. "Do I intrigue you?" she smiled, watching where he was looking.
Conway sucked in his breath. Damned if she wasn't red all over, he reflected. He slid his hands to her legs, and Linda shivered when he touched her boldly.
"Nice," she murmured.
"Let's get going," Conway said. He was getting a little warm from staring at her. She'd moved her legs slightly, and the view was lovely.
"We don't have to go anywhere. No one uses the pool after four."
Conway looked around. The place was certainly deserted enough.
"This can be the only time," Linda was saying softly as she shed her halter and tossed it aside. The sun glistened on her breasts now riding freely on her stomach. She was a beautiful nymph sitting there nude on the edge of the pool.
Conway transferred his hand over to the inside of her thigh, running it up as far as it would go and gently stroking her. "Let's make it a good one," he suggested.
Linda nodded her agreement and leaned back until her breasts arched upward in a gentle curve. "I love what you're doing. You could keep that up all day."
"It gets better," Conway promised. She helped things along by raising her feet from the water and resting her ankles on his shoulders, pushing herself toward him.
"Kiss me," she said weakly. She emphasized her request by pulling him to her and holding him tightly against the warmth of her body, wiggling against the ecstasy she felt. "I love that," she murmured. "It drives me crazy."
Within minutes the couple had risen to vast heights. Only then did Linda slide off the lip of the pool. She wrapped her legs about him, seeking him out. When she found him she moaned softly and held herself for him. At his first touch she held herself tightly against him, driving back.
When their move was complete Linda opened her eyes. "I've never had it this good," she admitted. "I don't believe any man has ever done this well."
Conway pressed against her. The breasts were two flattened spheres against his chest.
Linda brought her mouth against his. "Love me," she whispered. "Love me real good."
Conway did his best. He ground himself at her until their motion was almost a blur. He peaked quickly and was almost sorry that he had. Linda had had plenty of experience with men, and as he shuddered she sighed and relished what he was doing.
There was only one trouble that plagued him. This wasn't Linda against him. He was again with that young girl back in the tunnel.
Linda aroused him from his dreams as she pulled away from him. "That was lovely," she smiled. "I've never been had quite like that before. I'D probably be sore for a week."
Conway watched as she left the pool. She found a towel and rubbed herself vigorously. Her breasts slapped noiselessly against her body. She lifted one of the fullnesses toward him.
"You didn't even use them," she pouted.
He climbed out of the water and approached her. "It's never too late," he grinned.
Linda avoided him. "It is too late," she said somewhat regretfully. "I do have, a dinner date."
"Will your boy friend get to use them?"
"Of course," Linda smiled.
Conway touched her. "I suppose he'll get more too."
"We're getting married next week," Linda explained. "I suppose you could say he has a lease."
"That makes you unavailable in the future?"
Linda dropped her towel. Still naked, she brought her body against his, making room for him. "I suppose it does," she said regretfully. She added hopefully, "But I'm not married yet."
"You sound as if you want it again."
"Of course I do," Linda said softly, her breathing becoming ragged. She rubbed her belly against his like a cat in heat.
"You'll be late," Conway warned.
She worked his lips with hers, her hands on his bare buttocks holding him tightly against her while she pushed at him in a regular rhythm. "To heck with it," she murmured. "It isn't often a woman is this fortunate."
Conway felt no excitement from the woman this time. Making her had been too easy. His mind went back to the girl in the park. That was the way to make love. He pushed Linda away gently. "I've got to get downstairs," he explained.
At the words her anger came back. "You still prefer Margo to me?" she snapped.
"It's nothing like that," Conway protested.
Linda picked up her robe and put it on. "That damned woman," she spat. "Just what kind of a hypnotic effect has she on you men anyhow?" Without saying another word she stalked off and vanished into the elevator.
Conway shook his head and lit a cigarette. He had the definite feeling that he'd just served as a pawn between two women. But what the hell, he thought. Why should he complain? It had been fun. He headed for the apartment.
This time the room was like a trap. Things Linda had said kept running through his head. In a little while Conway had worked 'himself up to a point where he would have hated to see Margo come through the door.
He also thought of the girl in the park. Even though he felt lousy about what he'd done, he couldn't forget the pleasure of it.
Conway took a couple of drinks and followed them with a shower.
Nothing helped. An hour later he was still at the window watching darkness settle over the city. A thousand colorful lights winked on beneath him.
Conway saw none of it. He only heard a hundred noises, fearful lest any of them prove to be Margo coming back, looking for more sex.
He reached into his pocket for a fresh cigarette. This time a small card spilled out along with the pack. Conway held it to the light, puzzled. Then he remembered, the thing he'd taken from the girl's purse last night, this was it.
He scanned the printing beneath the light. Much to his surprise it was a library card issued by the University of Chicago, issued to one Teddy Grinson.
At that Conway knew that he shouldn't have been too amazed. It figured that this girl, Teddy, should be a student. She'd been out for a walk after classes.
He started to throw it away and decided against it. What the hell, with Linda's needling he didn't feel much like hanging around here to face Margo. As long as he had nothing better to do why didn't he run over and make sure this Teddy was all right?
CHAPTER SIX
Conway's intent had been good when he'd started out. Now, as the cab drew closer to the scene of his last evening's stupid rape, he began to wonder if this was so smart after all.
This dame didn't really mean anything to him. She was one among thousands. Why was he going to all this bother? What worried Conway more than anything else was the fact that he might be getting a conscience.
In his business this was something he couldn't afford. He knew that the world was a rough place. The only way you could get ahead was to knock everybody else out of the way. Wasn't that how he'd made it this far?
Conway lighted a cigarette and nodded to himself. He was right. It paid to be tough.
But just how far had he gotten? He was twenty-three years old. Out of that time he'd spent eight years in a reform school and three in prison. That wasn't too good a record.
Conway tried to ignore the ranting of his inner voice. He'd heard it all before. He returned to the problem at hand.
All he wanted to do was make sure the girl was all right. When that was accomplished he'd leave happily. Just how he'd do this was a little hazy. He could hardly go up to her and say, "Pardon me, miss, but Pm the man that raped you last night. Are you all right?" Conway grinned to himself at the thought of doing anything so silly. Certainly he could think of something a little more clever.
However, when the driver left him out near the indicated address Conway still wasn't sure of himself. He looked around him and saw that this was the urban renewal section he'd passed through last night. He was surrounded by massive twenty-story concrete apartment houses that made him feel closed in.
It took him a few minutes to locate the address matching the one on the card. He went into the coldly functional lobby and looked up the name, Grinson, on the mailboxes. He'd hoped he wouldn't find it. As luck would have it, it was there.
Was he nuts, Conway asked himself. Supposing the dame recognized him and started screaming for the cops? He was ahead now. Why not stay that way?
But there was something deep inside him that would let him retreat. Cursing his new-found conscience, Conway took an elevator to the indicated floor.
Now he was at her door, and he still didn't have an excuse. Why didn't he just say he'd knocked at the wrong door when she answered the door. In a joint as big as this that would be a natural mistake.
The idea appealed to him. Conway raised his fist and rapped hard at the panel.
There were sounds of scurrying around inside. Then all was quiet and Conway felt relief. Nobody would answer. To hell with the rape scene.
He knew better than that. He'd heard somebody in there. He knocked again, harder. This time footsteps approached the door. It cracked a little and a shapeless face filled the opening.
"What the hell you selling, buster?" the woman snapped. "Whatever it is I ain't buying."
Conway hadn't expected this kind of a reception. Now his excuse about the wrong apartment was up in smoke. "Is Teddy home?" he asked, trying to shield his nervousness.
"What the hell's it to you?" the woman barked. "I'm a friend of hers."
The woman's face broke into a broad grin. It didn't help her looks much. "Oh," she said, suddenly friendly. "You must be one of Teddy's school chums."
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "I'm one of her school chums."
The woman pulled the door wide open. Conway wished she hadn't. He had several instant impressions. One was that he'd never seen such a messy apartment. There was junk strewn in every direction. Papers on the floor, torn magazines on the couch. The place needed a good broom.
His second impression was of the woman herself. She had wrinkles in her face that were almost a foot deep. She'd tried to cover them with some kind of cheap makeup. The robe wrapped around her ample frame had been white at one time. It certainly needed one of those magic soaps right now.
"Come on in," the woman invited, stepping back from the doorway. "Any friend of Teddy's is a friend of mine." She extended a fat hand. "I'm her mother."
"Is she here?"
The woman closed the door and Conway felt suddenly trapped. "Nope. She's working tonight. Tough luck.
How about a drink. I've got some good whiskey." Before Conway could answer he had a glass shoved into his hand. He'd never tasted such cheap booze.
At that point he became aware of a second figure coming into the room. He was still fastening his pants so it wasn't hard to figure what the two of them had been doing. No wonder there'd been so much scuffling when he'd knocked.
"This here is Hank," the woman said, nodding at the slender man standing by the doorway. "He's a friend of Teddy's and mine."
Conway wanted out of this madhouse ... now. He swallowed his drink and started for the door. "I'd better leave," he announced. He thought of a quick excuse. "I've got a class."
"Sure," the woman said good naturedly. "I know how it is with you college fellas."
Conway hesitated. "Just where is Teddy working?"
The woman screwed up her brow, as if thinking. "I ain't sure I should tell you," she said slowly. 'Teddy warned me to keep it quiet." Her face brightened as she added, "But you look like the kind of a guy I'd like in the family. Go down at PETER'S on 49th. You'll find her there."
Conway thanked her and bolted the apartment, not satisfied until he was back on the street. Only then did he take time to think.
He now knew for sure that this girl, Teddy, was okay. He no longer had any reason for hanging around.
Still, he reflected, maybe it wouldn't hurt to have a look at her. He was a little curious concerning what she was like in the light.
His mind made up, Conway motioned for a cab.
PETER'S didn't look like much from the outside. It was little more than a plain, black door set in a fancy exterior with the name imprinted above the woodwork.
While he watched, a half dozen men went through that door. From die sounds drifting out Conway gathered it was some sort of bar.
Just what the hell would a college girl be doing in such a joint, he pondered. He supposed she could be keeping the books.
Conway finally worked up the nerve to approach that black panel. It was then he saw the smaller lettering just above the knob: FOR KEY CLUB MEMBERS ONLY
Conway was just thinking that over when another party of men came along. He stepped aside and let them pass. But just before that door closed he slid in behind them.
Once inside, the joint was as dark as a cave. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes used to the lack of light. When he could finally see he realized the room was smaller than he would have imagined. Booths lined all four walls. In the center was a circular bar, above which was what seemed to be a small stage.
Just then a waitress breezed past him carrying a tray full of drinks and Conway almost lost his uppers. She had on a strapless bra that lay low on her ample breasts, and a pair of brief white panties through which her coloration showed. There was also a garter belt, the straps of which snaked down beneath the nylons and held up a pair of jet-black stockings. She looked as she'd forgotten to put her dress on.
Conway realized that he'd now seen everything. Whoever had thought up that costume had been a genius. He made his way to the bar and sat down, looking back into the room. There were other girls, equally as undressed, serving the tables. The only change was in the color of their underwear. Some wore pink, some black, but all pretty much transparent.
"You new here?" the bartender asked, coming up to him.
Conway spun around and grinned. "I sure as hell am. How do they get away with all this?"
The man on the other side of the wood was big and husky and must have stood well over six feet tall. "This is a private club. The cops don't bother us. You got to have a key to get in here."
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "I know."
"Where's your key?"
"I haven't got any. I was curious and came in after a bunch of guys." He couldn't see any reason to lie to this big bruiser.
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to breeze right out again," the man said. He didn't seem too unfriendly.
Conway placed a twenty on the bar. "Will this do as a substitute?"
The big man smiled and pocketed the money. "No reason it shouldn't. I got to earn a living just like anybody else. Besides, you're too young to be a cop."
"That's about the size of it," Conway agreed. "I think I'd better have a drink."
While he was waiting for his order he watched a waitress come up to the far end of the bar and grab a brief smoke of her cigarette. Her bra was the most interesting of all. It was net and each nipple poked its way through the lace.
The bartender returned. He slid Conway's whiskey at him and collected two bucks.
"Do these dames put out?" Conway asked.
"You interested?"
"I don't think I could afford the prices."
"You're probably right. They like a C-note. But stick around. If the tips are good enough they'll get rid of the bras." He glanced at his watch. "Besides, we got a show coming up in twenty minutes. The little lady goes down to the buff, and she's got a body that won't quit."
Conway thought of what he'd come in here for and started asking another question. However at that point the bartender slid off to handle another customer.
It didn't really matter anyhow, Conway decided. That dame back in the apartment had been mistaken. Her daughter didn't work here. Teddy had probably given her mother a false steer so she could stay out at night.
In either case the next twenty minutes were quite enjoyable. Conway had never spent much time people-watching, but this was different. Most of the men in the room were obviously wheels of one kind or another.
The first break came when the dark-haired girl brought fresh drinks to the boisterous crowd in the far corner. One of them whispered something to her. In return she reached behind her and unhooked her bra without the slightest hesitation, pulling it off and dropping it onto the table. Even from Conway's distance she had big boobs. The men all gave her a good feel before she was able to break away.
Conway swung around. This looking without doing was rough on him.
At that point the bartender put a record on a player, and the room was immediately smothered in a tune with a strong beat. He flipped a switch and the stage above the bar was bathed in lights from spots set in the ceiling.
Conway stared at the empty platform, wondering what was about to happen.
He didn't have to wait long. The girl came into view with quiet suddenness and stood there silently, not smiling, taking in die cheers of the assembled men.
All except Conway. He didn't cheer. He was too surprised. The blonde dancer in front of him was familiar, too familiar. This was Teddy, the one he'd raped last night.
It hit him like a blow to the head. Now he knew for sure what a dope he'd been. All day long he'd been worried about what he might have done to this dame. And what did she turn out to be? A stripper. A com mon, ordinary, everyday burlesque queen who'd probably have given it to him if he'd asked.
Conway angrily smashed out his cigarette, wanting to butt his head against any available wall. He'd never felt quite as foolish as he did at this moment. This would serve him right for listening to his conscience.
Conway felt like walking out of this joint. Still, he'd paid high prices for his drinks. He figured he might as well get his money's worth.
The slithering stripper was wearing a tight-fitting, neck-hugging dress that did full justice to her ample figure. She started her act by moving in time to the music. It quickly became obvious that she wasn't a very good dancer. Not that it mattered. None of the men present were looking at her feet. She undressed slowly, as if she were in the privacy of her own bedroom. First the dress came off, then the half slip covering the lower half of her body. Her long hair flowed down across the breast-filled bra. She took it off next, and her bared bosom hobbled into the open.
Just a pair of panties was left. She stripped these off like skin from a banana. Now nude, the young girl just stood there motionless, staring down at the people beneath her feet, letting them have a good look.
And she was something to see. Even Conway, despite his anger, had to admit this. He knew now that he hadn't fully appreciated what he'd had beneath him the evening before. Her body had the beauty of a Venus. It was perfectly proportioned from head to toe. The breasts were big, huge might even be the word. But they were perfectly controlled, drifting down and then outward in a perfect arc. The waist was so slender than a man could well get both hands about it with no trouble. Her hips flared out in a gentle curve then sloped down to legs that might have been carved from stone.
Her hair reached down as far as her flat stomach.
Below this was another area of golden beauty; this image could easily drive a man mad if he stared too long.
Conway had the odd sensation he was looking at a statue in some famous museum.
But her movement spoiled the illusion. The young girl went through a series of bumps and grinds calculated to move everything in view. She did a good job of shaking things up, both on and off the stage. However her actions seemed wooden and amateurish.
The record ended; she wiggled her fanny one more time and vanished. No amount of cheering was able to bring her back, and the men in the room finally had to return to their waitress friends.
Conway had been shaken by the performance. He really didn't know why. He did know that he could really use another session with her, this time with her eyes looking up into his. He figured this should be easy to arrange.
The bartender came up to him and nodded at the stage. "What did you think of our little act?" he asked.
"Not bad," Conway admitted. "How's about buying the little lady a little drink?"
"And taking her home to bed with you?" The barkeep had read his mind.
"Something like that."
The man in the red jacket shook his head. "No dice. Teddy is strictly a hands-off dish. She does one show a night and goes straight home."
"You're kidding."
The bartender raised his left hand. "So help me. Everything in the joint's for sale but her." He leaned forward as if in confidence. "Now I think you'd better blow. About this time of night the boss does the rounds, making sure everybody's got a key. Things get rough after midnight, and he don't like no strangers around."
Conway could have argued that he hadn't had his twenty bucks' worth. He didn't. He'd found what he'd come after. Not that it had left a good taste in his mouth. He finished his drink and left.
As he stood on the sidewalk waiting for a cab to come along Conway cursed himself again. Imagine getting sucked in on a deal like this Teddy. Just how big a sap could a guy be?
About that time a cab came down the street. As usual it passed him like a dirty shirt. But there was another Checker behind it and this one stopped.
Conway settled into the back seat. "Where to, Mac?" the driver asked.
Now that was a good question. He still didn't feel much like going home.
Deep in thought Conway glanced through the windshield and saw that the first cab had stopped just ahead of them. A reflection of the street light flashed on the face of the woman getting in. Damned if it wasn't Teddy. He wondered what man she was setting out to meet. That yarn about her going home to Mama was just a lot of crap. Well, Conway thought, there was one way to find out. He had nothing better to do. "Follow that cab up there," he ordered.
"Just like in the movies," the driver grunted, tramping down on the accelerator.
They drove like that, in tandem, for the better part of twenty minutes until Conway began to get dizzy from wandering around the maze of streets that formed Washington Park.
"You sure there ain't a guy in there working her little body over?" the driver finally asked. "We ain't doing nothing but playing merry-go-round."
Conway had to agree with him. Still, he would swear that Teddy was alone. He was about to tell the driver to take him to Clancy's when the other machine seemed to make up its mind and shot onto a main street. This time they moved quickly to the outer drive and slid into die heavy traffic Two miles in toward town the other cab veered off to the right, heading down past Soldier's Field. It stopped in front of the darkened Adler Planetarium, and the girl got out.
"She must be going to meet her stud," the driver snorted. "There sure as hell ain't anything going on here this time of night."
Conway had to agree with him. He knew this section of the city rather vaguely. It was where the World's Fair of 1934 had been held. The road they were now driving on had been filled in for the event.
He debated saying to hell with it and going back to the bar. But he had gone this far, and the girl seemed too preoccupied to notice him. "Drive down a way and let me out," Conway said.
The driver grinned. "I guess I spoke out of turn. If you two got something going, more power to you."
Conway didn't bother to discuss it. He paid the man off and was left standing alone in the darkness.
Not quite alone. In the quiet Conway could hear the sound of Teddy's heels on the sidewalk. He walked in that direction.
He'd just about given up finding her when he saw her figure silhouetted against the skyline of the city. She'd gone across the grass and was standing on the breakwater looking over the yacht basin. The surface of the water at her feet was almost like glass.
Conway was frankly puzzled. Didn't this dame ever learn? After last night he would have imagined a deserted section like this would be the last place she'd come.
Even more puzzling was his reason for being here. Did he figure on raping her again? Surely he couldn't approach her. She'd be certain to recognize him.
Conway moved in closer, uncertain of his motives. He was within twenty feet of her now, hidden behind a big tree, feeling like a damned kid spying on his girl.
They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity.
Conway ached for a cigarette, but he could do nothing about it. If he moved now she was sure to hear him.
Then, with Conway watching intently, the girl did a very curious thing. She sat down on die rock and took off her shoes, lining them up neatly beside her. She added her coat and purse to the growing pile.
And then she jumped into the water.
It all happened so fast that Conway didn't believe his eyes. He stood riveted to the spot for a full ten seconds before he was able to move. A flash of insight brought him into action. That damned girl was trying to kill herself.
He raced to the point where he'd last seen the girl. The water was far below and looked black and ugly. One fact lighted up inside his head. She was killing herself over what he'd done to her.
Conway stripped off his coat and shoes and dove into the lake. The water was cold and took his wind as he surfaced, spluttering. He felt panic as he looked around, unable to see any sign of the girl. He was too late.
Or was he?
At that point she surfaced a few feet to his left. She didn't seem to be struggling. Conway went after her just as she started down again. He reached out in desperation and was able to grab hold of her long hair.
Now she came to life, beating at him with her fists. "Leave me alone," she cried. "Let me die. Go away."
It was a struggle to keep both of them afloat. Conway gagged on water as she pushed him beneath the surface. When he came up he knew he'd have to do something or they'd both be goners. He took the direct approach and smashed his fist into her jaw. She went limp.
But the fight wasn't over yet. Getting into the lake had been easy. Leaving it was another matter. Conway swam along the shore, looking for a place he could get a foothold. He could see nothing but those giant, square blocks of granite that kept the water from spilling onto the streets when there was a storm.
He was reaching exhaustion when he finally saw a ledge. Using his last strength he hoisted the girl onto a low spot and followed her up. Then he carried her onto the grass of the park and collapsed; his lungs felt as if they were bursting.
It was ten minutes before he had the strength to go and get their clothing and his cigarettes. He squatted down beside the silent girl and lit up, quietly damning her for what she'd made him go through. The last thing he wanted to be was a hero.
Even so, Conway felt a little sorry for her. You had to be right on the edge before you did a thing like jumping off the deep end. He wondered if he were responsible. He didn't like the thought that he might be.
Staring down at her Conway realized that this was one of the prettiest women he'd ever known. Her water-soaked clothing stuck to her body like glue, highlighting every curve, of which she had plenty.
It was at that point that she groaned and opened her eyes, looking up at him. The first thing she did was rub her jaw. "That hurts," she complained.
"I'm sorry," Conway said. "I had to slug you or we'd both have gone down."
"Did you pull me out?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Teddy averted her eyes and began to cry. "You shouldn't have. I wanted to die."
"If you want I'll toss you back in," Conway grinned.
His ridiculous offer forced her to look at him again. A tiny smile even formed at the edges of her mouth. "That's a nasty thing to say."
"Well make up your mind," Conway scolded good-naturedly. "Do you or do you not want to die?"
Teddy struggled to a sitting position. "Not any more, I guess. I'll have to think about it a while longer." She looked up at him again, and her expression changed. She seemed to be studying his features illuminated by the light of the city. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked.
Conway held his breath. This looked like the ball game. Maybe she had recognized him last night. "No," he muttered nervously. "I don't think you do."
There was fear in her eyes now and she leaned away from him. "I do know you," she cried. "I'm certain of it."
Conway gritted his teeth and waited for the explosion. He might have known that he couldn't get away with it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The girl pointed an accusing finger at him, "You were at the club tonight."
Conway exhaled his relief. "Yeah," he grunted. "I was there."
Teddy looked puzzled. "But why are you here?"
"I followed you," he admitted.
The young girl seemed to shrink from him and fear sprang to her eyes. "Talk?" Her voice was but a whisper.
Conway could see that the girl was frightened. "That's all," he soothed. "Just talk."
Teddy didn't seem convinced. "I ... I suppose I should be glad you're here."
"You're damned right you should," Conway growled.
"Otherwise you'd be playing a harp." He added, "Or is that what you still want?"
The young girl shook her head and tears filled her eyes. "I'm not sure. I'm not sure about anything any more."
Conway stood up. He felt water dripping down his legs from his wet clothing. "We'd better get you someplace to dry off."
"Please don't take me home," the girl said quickly. "How about a friend's house?"
Teddy bit her lower lip. "I don't have any friends."
Conway began to think that the situation had interesting possibilities. What if he took her to Margo's place? He smiled to himself, considering the thought. It would sure show Margo that she wasn't the only dame in his life. And of course, there was always the chance she wouldn't be home. He liked that thought much better. There was no telling what might happen if he could get this girl alone. "I have a place I could take you," he said out loud. "It belongs to a friend of mine."
Teddy guessed what he meant. Her confusion was spelled out in her expression. "I ... I don't think so," she said.
"You have to go someplace," Conway said, getting angry at her delay. "You can't sleep in the park all night." He wondered if her obvious fear of him had been generated by her experience of the night before. A gal who's been raped wouldn't take too readily to strangers ... especially if they were men. He added, "Anyhow, we won't be alone. This friend is a girl."
Those were the magic words. What might have passed for a smile crossed the young girl's face. "All right," she agreed finally.
The next problem was a cab. Conway looked around to study the problem. Just at that moment he saw a set of lights heading their way. Damned if it wasn't a cab.
The driver stopped and stuck his head out of the open window. It was the same man who had brought Conway into the park.
"I figured you might be needing transportation," he grinned. He noticed Conway's wet clothes. "Ain't it a little early for a swim?"
Conway ignored the sarcastic comment and guided Teddy into the rear seat, giving the driver Margo's address.
Twenty minutes later the couple was at the front door of the apartment.
"Are you sure this friend won't mind?" Teddy asked uncertainly as Conway fumbled for his key.
"She won't."
Inside the apartment there was no sign of Margo. Conway greeted this discovery with mixed emotions.
Hanging behind him, still standing close to the front door, Teddy seemed understandably suspicious as she looked around the empty room. "I thought you said your friend would be here," she said nervously.
"I guess she isn't," Conway said. He stripped off his soaked coat. "We might as well make ourselves at home."
Teddy hesitated, obviously still afraid of him. "Maybe ... maybe I'd better go," she suggested slowly.
"Suit yourself," Conway said. "I thought you needed a place to stay."
The young girl seemed close to tears as she tried to make up her mind, forcing herself to come to a decision.
"How about a drink?" Conway said. "That may make you feel better."
"I ... I don't drink," she said slowly. "I think I could use a cup of coffee." She seemed to relax just a bit, stepping deeper into the room, looking down at her soaked clothing. "Do you think it would be all right if I took off my wet things? I could wrap up in a sheet or something."
At that point Conway knew that he'd won the battle.
He went into the bedroom and looked around. "In here," he called out to her. He found a terry cloth robe that looked his size and other stuff he figured she could wear in the closet.
When he turned around he saw that Teddy had followed him. She stood there, waiting, her fingers on the buttons of her dress. "Are you sure this girl won't mind?" she repeated.
"Hell no," Conway assured her.
"I'll close the door after you leave," the young girl said pointedly.
"I've seen you before," Conway reminded her gruffly.
A flush of red came to Teddy's face. "That was different," she said quickly. "We're alone together now."
Conway shrugged and did as she asked. No sense in hurrying things up. She was skitterish enough as it was.
He returned to the front room and stripped off his own clothing, putting on the robe. Then he went into the kitchen and made coffee. He could hear the sound of a shower running in the distance and guessed that Teddy was finally making herself at home.
He poured himself a cup of the hot brew and returned to the front room, drinking it and thinking over the evening so far. A great deal had happened. He wondered how much more was ahead. One thing was sure, die girl in the bedroom was frightened of him. Maybe she had a damned good reason, he reflected. While he'd never been raped, he knew that the experience must leave some kind of a scar.
Another question. Would he have the guts to make this girl with the threat of Margo's return hanging over his head?
More than that, did he want to make her? Supposing in the middle of the act she suddenly remembered him? He'd heard somewhere that the way a man makes love is as sure an identification as his fingerprints.
On top of everything else he felt mighty odd toward Teddy. It was a sensation he'd never experienced before, like a small kid wanting to jump off a roof in order to impress his girl friend.
Conway shook his head in confusion. He was really mixed up.
At that point the bedroom door opened and Teddy came into the living room. Her hair was no longer straggly but combed neatly in place, the golden color a glow beneath the light. She had Margo's satin robe wrapped tightly about her, and her big bosom pressed out hard against the cloth. When she moved toward him it quickly became apparent there was nothing holding the flowing breasts in place.
Teddy guessed what he was thinking. "None of her bras would fit me," she explained.
"You look lovely," Conway said truthfully.
Teddy picked up his cup. "May I get you another?" she asked. "I could certainly use one." Without waiting for an answer she went into the kitchen and quickly returned with his refill and a fresh one for herself. She sat across from him, carefully adjusting the robe about her legs. "This is good," she smiled, taking her first sip of coffee.
"It's instant. I always was a lousy coffee maker."
"It's hot. That's all that matters."
"Tell me," Conway said slowly. "Why did you try to kill yourself?"
Teddy's smile faded. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask."
"Being as I'm the guy that fished you out, I figure I have a right to know."
The young girl sighed. "It's a long, sad story," she said slowly. "I wouldn't want to bore you with it."
"Go ahead," Conway prompted. "Maybe it would do you good to get it out of your system."
"You're sure you don't mind?"
Conway was genuinely interested. He just couldn't figure why a doll like this would want to kill herself. On the surface she looked as if she had everything to live for. "I don't mind," he said.
"Let me get another cup of coffee." When she returned and sat down her robe gapped briefly. She tugged it together but not before Conway was able to get a good look at Margo's black, skin-tight panties. They looked better on Teddy.
"I'm twenty-one," the young girl began. "And I've never been in a man's apartment before."
"That's not much reason for trying to kill yourself."
"I know," Teddy agreed. "It's just that men always look at me with only one thing on their minds. I hate it. My father was like that. Only he got caught in the wrong bed a few years ago and was shot to death. My mother started drinking and now she likes men a little too much."
Conway remembered the scene at her Mother's place and knew the girl was telling the truth so far.
"I only have a high school education," Teddy continued. "I wanted to go to college, but my mother said she couldn't afford it. I thought maybe I could earn my way through."
"By working in a strip joint?" Conway cut in.
Teddy shrugged. Peter's isn't really like that. My mother knows the owner and talked him into letting me do the act. She thought it would be good practice for me to go on the stage and become a big star. Then she could quit work and stop supporting me." She shivered. "I'd give anything to get out of that shabby neighborhood where we live."
Conway thought of his childhood and couldn't find any sympathy for the girl. She had too many stars in her eyes.
"I don't really want to be an actress," Teddy went on. "It was really my mother's idea."
"Just what the hell do you want to be?" Conway asked.
Teddy shook her head. Her golden hair rippled in the light. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm all confused. I even took some night courses at the University of Chicago, but I was too dumb to pass diem."
"There is such a thing as marriage," Conway suggested. "With most women that's their first choice."
"I know," Teddy said somberly. "Maybe if I met the right man...." The sentence drifted off, endless.
Conway sipped his coffee, staring at the intent girl. "You can't really blame men for what they think," he smiled. "You are very beautiful. You're the kind that brings out the animal in men."
"You too?"
"Me too."
"That's hard to believe," Teddy said. "I don't think I've ever sat with a man this long before without his trying to get his hands on me."
"So because you're confused, you tried to kill yourself?"
"That's about it," Teddy agreed. "I suppose it does sound a little silly."
Conway was relieved that what he'd done to her that night in the dark had had no part in her decision. Out loud he said, "It is silly."
Teddy got to her feet and walked to the window. She stared out a long time then turned back to face him. "You were right," she said finally. "It did help me to talk about it. I feel better."
"Good."
She came closer. Her robe kept parting enough for Conway to see the length of her legs. "It's funny," she said. "I don't even know your name."
"Steve. Steve Conway. Yours is Teddy."
"Teddy Grinson. Actually it's Grinsonvich, but mother changed it for my career." She extended her hand, and Conway took it. The fingers were firm and warm. This gal really excited him.
Conway rose to his feet and used his hand still holding her to draw her still closer to him. For a long moment they stared into each other's eyes. Hers were deep and green, like the sea. The complexion was smooth and flawless. His heart had suddenly begun working hard.
Her mouth was slightly open, the lips moist and tempting. Conway moved his face closer.
Teddy saw what was coming. "No," she said softly. But Conway could already feel her hand on the back of his neck. She was ready.
The kiss made him a little breathless. He'd never been kissed quite like that. There was no heavy emotion involved in the embrace, just the solid meeting of two people. But her lips seemed to quiver beneath his, and the sensation was heady.
After a few seconds, her mouth opened slightly and her breath came through his throat, hot and sweet. At the same time her arms went fully around him, and he could feel the weight of her body against him.
It ended as slowly as it had begun with her pulling back and staying only inches away. "I owed you that," she said softly.
"Was the debt so hard to pay?" Her nearness had really shaken Conway up. This type of gentle love was out of his line.
Teddy sat down abruptly and tugged him to a place beside her. "You're angry," she accused.
Conway shook his head and smiled. "Not at all," he disagreed. "It's just that I've never met another woman quite like you."
"Is that good or bad?"
Conway hadn't figured that one out himself. He placed an arm about her shoulder, and she came to him willingly, leaning her head against his chest. He wanted her and yet he was afraid of beginning the standard maneuvers of conquest. Her being this close both tantalized and drove him crazy. She was soft and warm and smelled of all women. And yet she wasn't the kind to be thrown on the floor and taken.
Conway caressed her cheek and turned her face to his. Her eyes flicked from his mouth to his forehead before they closed when he kissed her again. This time her lips seemed 'further apart, far enough to admit the tip of his tongue. She felt it on her teeth and stiffened, only to relax when it drove a little further into her mouth. She seemed to learn quickly and soon her tongue met his.
;This kiss was endless, a transfusion from man to woman and woman to man.
When the time was ripe Conway slid a hand from her shoulder to the rise of her breast, enjoying the warmth through the robe. He let his fingers lie lightly on the fullness.
When their embrace ended he was still in that position. She opened her eyes and looked up to him. "I've never been kissed like that," she whispered.
Conway ran his free hand through her hair. It was like silk. "I've never wanted to kiss anyone like that."
Teddy twisted in his arms, bringing more of the weight of her. breast to his hand. He closed his fingers on the fullness and felt the hardness of the tip.
"You shouldn't," Teddy scolded.
"Mind?"
She shook her head. "Not really. It's so peaceful here."
Now Conway kissed her and kneaded her breast until the effect was apparent in the expression on her face. She was coming around to what he wanted. And it was his victory.
He touched the belt of the robe and she opened her eyes. "I don't think we should," she said softly, watching him unfasten the satin.
Conway kissed her again, and she moaned a little from the pressure of his lips. Her hand behind his neck pulled his mouth more lightly against hers.
Conway didn't have to look to know her robe was open. His hand was on the softness of bare flesh. Their mouths still together, he ran down the slope of her breast, pushing all covering aside. He took the nipple in his grasp and rubbed it gently between his fingers. It was tiny, small, totally out of proportion to her large bosom.
When Teddy looked at herself again she was bare from the waist up, the robe pulled back on her shoulders. "Oh, Steve," she sighed. "We shouldn't."
Conway didn't listen. He knew the young girl was under his spell. She couldn't resist him now.
And Teddy didn't protest as he touched her freely, tenderly, playing her body as if it were a fine piano.
There were panties left. A black patch of nylon covering the golden profusion. He ran his hand beneath the elastic, ignoring the command of his body to hurry and take her. She stiffened and whimpered as his fingers crept slowly across her stomach. He'd work her until she begged to be taken. Conway's breathing was suddenly ragged.
And then the phone rang, a harsh, insistent jangle that broke the spell he'd woven into a thousand pieces.
Conway cursed the intrusion, ignoring the noise as he continued touching the girl.
The instrument sounded again.
Teddy opened her eyes. She looked at herself, as if seeing what he'd been doing to her for the first time. "No," she said. This time the words carried authority. "You'd better answer your phone."
Conway hesitated a few seconds longer. It was obvious he couldn't do anything more to her now. Regretfully he got to his feet and picked up the telephone.
Margo was at the other end of the wire. "Hello, darling," she said cheerfully. "I'd begun to think you hadn't come home again."
At that moment Conway could gladly have killed the woman. "I am," he snapped. "What the hell do you want?"
"My, aren't we edgy tonight. Did I interrupt something?"
Afraid that she might be suspicious, Conway changed his tone to sweetness. "I was just catching some sleep," he lied.
"That's fine. I want you well rested up."
"When you coming home?"
"That's what I called about. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon."
"Good. I'll be waiting." He hung up the instrument without further conversation. Looking up he saw Teddy standing by the window, the robe again pulled protectively about her body. "Where were we?" he asked, grinning, trying to recover lost ground.
"You were about to take my panties off," Teddy said somberly.
Conway nodded and moved closer to her. "Then let's get at it.
"Is that what you want?"
He has a raging fire in his guts for the girl, and she asks a stupid question like that. "I figured you had it in mind when you asked to be brought here," Conway said.
"I needed help. I thought I could trust you. Besides, I didn't ask."
"Well you don't go around asking to be taken to a man's apartment without paying off the debt." He ignored her correction.
Teddy's eyes were hard on him. Tears had begun to trickle down her cheeks. "All right," she said, her voice only a whisper. "You can have what you want." She flipped the robe open and let it slide to the floor. Her fingers went beneath the elastic of the remaining panties. "Should I take these off, or do you want to?"
Conway stepped in quickly, before she changed her mind, holding her against him, feeling the warmth of her bare body.
But he felt something else. The young girl was trembling as she fought back her tears. He knew at this point that if he gave her a jolt she might snap out of it. What then? Conway wanted this girl more than once, much more. She was young and strong and had a lot of good loving in her. She was Margo all over. He could have one glorious fling right now or be patient and have all he wanted. Teddy was the kind who would appreciate his being kind to her.
Conway made his decision. With the heat of her flesh against him it wasn't easy. He pushed her gently to arm's length and looked into the tear-streaked eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You're a lot of woman for a man to resist. I think you'd better go to bed now."
"Alone?"
"Alone. I'll sleep out here on die couch."
Teddy flashed him a radiant smile of gratitude. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
"Now git," Conway snapped. "I might change my mind."
Teddy needed no second urging. She picked up her robe and vanished into the bedroom.
Conway had himself a drink and wondered if he was getting soft in the head. Still, he knew one thing. If you wanted to catch a big fish you had to wiggle the bait a little. His investment of keeping his hands off the girl might pay off handsomely.
With that final thought he called it quits for the day and went to bed, dreaming of naked women jumping over a fence. He slept well.
It was the smell of fresh coffee that awakened Conway. He lay on the couch wondering if his nose was deceiving him. Finally he couldn't stand it any longer and he opened his eyes. Teddy was standing above him, holding a tray, looking down, an amused smile on her face.
"I thought you'd never wake up," she said.
Conway wondered if he were still asleep. If so, this was a wonderful dream. The young girl looked like some sort of angel with the morning sun shining on her blonde hair. Of course angels didn't dress quite that way. Teddy had borrowed some more of Margo's clothing. The white blouse was straining at the buttons, some of the breasts showing through the V neck of the material. On the other hand the skirt was loose on her hips. "You look as if you feel better."
"I feel wonderful," Teddy confessed. "That was a silly thing I did last night."
"Which one?"
She flushed as she set the tray down on the table and poured 'him a cup of coffee. "Trying to kill myself."
"It was pretty dumb." Conway started to throw back the covers, but remembered in time he'd slept naked. He discreetly tucked a blanket around him, not wanting to frighten the girl off.
"I was scared," Teddy said slowly. She sat across from him, crossing her legs, careful he didn't get too good a view. She wasn't too successful. She was still wearing the black panties. "I didn't know which way to turn."
Conway sipped his coffee, amazed at her change of mood. "Do you know now?"
"I do. I'm quitting the club. I'm going to get an apartment by myself. Then I'll find a job as a model. Several people have told me I'd make a good one."
"You have changed," Conway grinned. "All this since last night?"
"I think we all need a real shock to wake us up. I've been trying to live out my mother's ambitions. That doesn't work."
Conway found a cigarette and lighted it, noting that his clothes had been pressed and were neatly laid out on the back of a chair. He could see by the look in the girl's eye that she really meant what she was saying. He wondered if he couldn't add a few things to her plans, like paying for the apartment so that he might use it at his convenience. On second thought why not let her pay for it and he'd still use the place? Models made plenty of money. "Now you're talking," he said.
Teddy looked around the room and back at him. "Is this your apartment?"
"No. It belongs to a friend of mine. I told you that last night."
"She must be an awfully good friend."
"She is."
"A sleeping friend?"
"Now you're getting personal."
Teddy smiled and put her cup down, folding her hands across her lap. "I used to think everybody was decent and honest. Then I found out otherwise. But after last night I think there's still hope."
"What about last night?"
"I was really asking for trouble by having you take me in. And I don't know of another man that would have let me sleep by myself. I just want you to know I appreciate it."
Conway sipped his coffee, admiring her beauty, wondering where all this talk was leading. "Think nothing of it," he grunted.
Teddy got up and came over to sit beside him. "I want to think about it," she said slowly. "After I went to bed I lay there awake for over an hour, expecting you to come in. She blushed slightly. "When you didn't come to me I came out here to you. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I'd been so nasty."
Conway began to get the drift. "That all?" he asked.
"No," Teddy said somberly. "Before I came in here I took all of my clothes off. I was hoping you'd give me a second chance to show my appreciation. But you were asleep. That was a shame, because you were the only man in my whole life I'd ever wanted to sleep with."
Conway knew he had it made. He'd wiggled the bait and she'd taken the hook. Now all he had to do was reel her in carefully. He didn't want this one to get away. "Why the past tense?" he asked.
Teddy leaned closer to him. "Because you scare me, Steve," she admitted. "There's something about you that makes me want to forget everything I've ever learned about modesty. I like you to see me without clothes. I'm afraid I'd like even more than that."
Conway pulled her to him and kissed her hard. The embrace broke the back of any resistance she might have had left. Her lips pressing at his, her tongue darting toward his throat told him of her building desire.
"Is it so wrong?" Teddy asked breathlessly when she pulled away. "Tell me it isn't wrong."
"Is it important?" Conway asked. He'd become a little short-winded himself.
Teddy nodded somberly. Close up her lips looked moist and smelled of fresh lipstick. "It is to me," she said softly. "I'm afraid I've fallen in love with you."
Her statement caught Conway by surprise. "You can't mean that," he said.
Teddy rose to her feet and walked a short distance away, turning toward him. "I do. I always thought it would happen this way. Fast, I mean. I'm all soft inside and looking at your turns my heart upside down. Please don't ask me to explain love. I can't. I only know how I feel." She moved closer to him. "You can do anything to me you'd like."
"You're sure?"
"I want you, Steve," she said softly. "All my life I've had a place reserved for you."
Still seated, Conway put his hands on her hips, letting his fingers dig into die softness of her buttocks. She'd worked him up good with her talk, and it was only with the greatest restraint that he kept from jumping her. "Get undressed," he said slowly.
Her eyes didn't leave his for an instant as she opened the blouse. The tight material fairly exploded from the pressures within it. After tossing the cloth aside Teddy looked down at her bra. A wisp of a smile crossed her face. "I don't know why I ever bothered putting it on," she said. "Maybe it was because I wanted you to take it off." She slid the straps off her shoulders and turned for him to finish the job.
Conway's fingers trembled as he unsnapped the hooks. She threw the material impatiently aside and leaned her bare back against him, her hair flowing over his shoulders. When his hands clenched her breasts she covered them with her own fingers, pulling them even tighter.
"I'm on fire," she whispered into his ear. "I feel wicked and sinful."
Conway kissed her cheek. Her mouth widened and closed in response to his fingers toying with the nipples. "They're big," he grunted.
"I used to hate them," Teddy admitted. She ran her lips over his as she talked, flicking her tongue deep into his mouth, drawing it out slowly against the pressure of his teeth. "I don't any more. For years I've been saving myself for someone. Now I'm yours."
Conway kissed her shoulder, then ran down the steep slope of the fullness until he had a tip within his mouth. It was bigger than ever, growing in response to what they were doing.
The couple on the couch forgot time as they explored each other's bodies. Teddy soon tired of having her breasts teased and wanted something more exciting. She watched Conway tug her skirt above her legs, held it at her waist for him while he ran his hands up and down the incredibly smooth flesh of her thighs, spread herself for him so that he might caress her further.
Still not enough. Teddy moaned within his arms. She held his hand and took it to where she wanted to be touched, working herself against it, damning her protection.
Her eyes were glazed as she loosened her skirt, stood for a second, swept it and her panties to the floor, sat again on his knee, naked, writhing with passion, watching his hands seek her.
But even this didn't satisfy the young girl. She touched him with her own hand, whimpering slightly as her fingers curled around him, squeezing with strength that surprised Conway.
He'd never been so worked up. For an amateur the girl had amazing experience. He knew that they'd better get together quickly or this whole build-up would have been a waste.
Teddy twisted until she was against him, her breasts heavy and wet on his chest, her mouth a cavern of heated desire. "Do it to me now," she panted. "Before I explode."
Conway carried her to the bedroom, her lips on his, maintaining the peak of heated passion between them. He placed her gently on the unmade bed and for a moment enjoyed the sight of a woman in unbridled want. Her hair streamed down her body. The breasts were large pools of trembling beauty. She was ready, her legs outstretched.
He placed one knee on the bed and she took hold of him, her eyes opening momentarily at the wonder of the man, gently bringing him toward her, the hips reaching out to him.
Conway hesitated. Despite his passion he felt the coldness of a chill. His moment of truth was at hand. Would she recognize him as her attacker?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Teddy knew nothing but the moment. When he pressed against her body she gasped in sudden pain. But there was also ecstasy, and in this she lifted herself to meet him. She thought he'd never stop. But when he became a part of her there was contentment, and she held him there with her legs curling about his, moving just enough to gain maximum pleasure from their union.
Conway forgot all thought of fear as he moved to the girl. She was fresh and new, and her body clung to him unlike anything he'd ever known.
There was a moment of peace, and in this Teddy opened her eyes and looked up at the man above her, feeling her labored breathing press her breasts deep into his chest. "That's lovely," she murmured. "Give me everything. I love you."
And then she cried out in passion and wiggled and pressed at him with all her strength, seeking more, wanting more, demanding more.
It was the beginning, and before it was finished the two naked figures on the bed had become dedicated to the ritual of sex. Her hips followed his until they became a blur of motion.
But even this wasn't enough for the young girl. She wanted everything, anything he had to offer. She offered him a breast and he took it, drawing at it while he fought to give pleasure.
There came a time when Conway wondered if this girl would ever peak. His muscles ached from pounding at her. Sweat blurred his vision. His control was on the verge of being lost.
And then she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. It was a devil's kiss, unlike any he'd ever had, trading air into each other's lungs, her jaws wide until she could almost swallow him, the tongue down his throat.
"Now," she hissed. "I'm there." Her body stiffened, giving emphasis to her panting statement.
It was all Conway needed. He lost his control and they peaked together.
Teddy laid her head back on the bed and moaned at the wonder of what was happening within her.
Conway was gasping for air as he finished the girl. She looked up at him briefly, a fog over her eyes, then collapsed onto the bed in a contented sleep.
Conway joined her. Had he ever been so tired?
An hour later Conway was back in the living room smoking a cigarette, reliving the experience he'd just had. Every muscle in his body ached, but he didn't mind. He'd never forget. He and Teddy were going to get along fine. She was the kind of mistress that any man would be proud to have.
Of course she'd probably want to get married. That was standard procedure with dames. But he knew if he stalled her off long enough she'd get hooked on his body and drop the idea.
Wasn't that the way he'd worked with Margo? Conway smiled and leaned back in 'his chair, fingering his cigarette. In a way it was lucky that Teddy had come along, Conway reflected. If she hadn't he might have been stuck with Margo. Now he'd have some fresh material to go with his forty grand instead of used merchandise.
Conway was pleased with Conway. Everything was working out just fine.
He glanced nervously at his watch. It was almost eleven. He hoped Margo had meant it when she'd said she'd be home in the afternoon. He was living dangerously.
Conway heard the shower and knew that Teddy was up. Realizing that she'd probably want some fresh coffee, he went into the kitchen and put some on the stove. When he returned the young girl was standing in front of the hall mirror, combing her long, luxuriant hair. She'd put on the skirt, nothing else. Her bare breasts rose and fell with the motion of her arm.
"Hi," she said, smiling, looking at him through the mirror as he approached.
Conway put his arm around her, cupping one of her fullnesses, pulling her against him. Her skin was damp and warm. "Hi yourself. How do you feel?"
She nuzzled his cheek with her lips. "Wonderful," she sighed. "I'm warm and contented like a cow."
Conway chuckled as he hefted a breast from beneath, testing the weight.
Teddy continued combing her hair. "You can kiss me if you'd like."
"You're asking for trouble."
Teddy smiled. "Perhaps I like the kind of trouble you give me. You make me feel all woman."
Conway had thought he was too exhausted for any more sex today. Now, the way she was talking, he wasn't so sure. He could feel himself tingling again. "Believe me," he grunted, kneading her breast, "you are all woman."
"I'm glad," Teddy said. "I want the man I love to feel that way."
"Why'd you get dressed?" Conway complained.
Teddy put her comb down and turned around. "I'm not dressed. I'm covered. I'd feel strange walking around here in the nude. Suppose someone should walk in?"
Teddy made a face and ran her lips lightly over his. "A woman's breasts are considered public property. The rest of her belongs to her man."
It was the first time Conway had heard that philosophy. "What's beneath the skirt?" he persisted.
She lifted the material to her waist. "Me," she said softly.
Looking at her display Conway wondered how come it'd gotten so hot in the apartment all of a sudden. He could see beads of moisture still gathered on her from her recent shower. He reached out to touch her but she danced nimbly away, laughing.
"Not now," she smiled. "Let me enjoy you for a while." She sat on the couch, demurely tucking her skirt between her legs. "Can I have some coffee?" she asked.
Conway didn't press the issue of sex. He wasn't at all sure he could give her another jolt quite so soon. And he didn't want to begin anything he couldn't finish. He handed her a cup. "You sure aren't the girl I brought up here last night," he said.
"You're right," Teddy agreed. "I love and I've been loved. I have a future, and I'm terribly happy."
"What's the future?"
"You. We're going to be married."
"You're awfully sure of yourself."
Teddy nodded, balancing the edge of the saucer on the swell of her breast. "I am," she admitted. "You couldn't have thrilled me like that if you hadn't loved me. You would have been more concerned for yourself."
Conway was amazed at her naivete. He'd never worried in his life about women. Most of them wanted to go all the way anyhow. Still, Conway wasn't about to disillusion the young girl. She could think any way she wanted as long as she continued giving it to him.
"You do love me?" Teddy asked. There was sudden concern in her expression.
"Hell yes," Conway answered quickly.
"It's funny," Teddy said, smiling again. "I don't even know anything about you."
"There isn't much to tell," Conway admitted. "I'm just an average guy. My parents weren't much better than yours."
"Weren't?"
"Dad died an alcoholic. I don't know where my mother is. I ran away when I was old enough to earn a living."
"We are alike in many ways," Teddy murmured.
Once Conway got to talking he couldn't stop. He went on for the better part of an hour, telling her about himself, soft-pedaling the rough stuff, playing the angles so that she'd feel sorry for him.
It must have worked, because when he'd finished her face was somber, as if she were deep in thought. "You say that this Shorty threatened to kill you if you didn't go along with him on this bank holdup?" she asked, breaking a momentary silence.
Conway nodded, fingering his cigarette. "That's right. I really didn't have any choice."
"Did you tell the police this?"
"I did, hut you know how police are."
"I know," Teddy agreed. "I grew up in the same place you did. They only want to pinch apples and girls. But what about die money?"
"Shorty tossed it in the car before he died. I hid it."
"You are going to give it back, aren't you?"
The directness of her question threw Conway off balance. "I haven't made up my mind," he lied.
Teddy left her chair and sat beside him. "You've got to," she said softly. "It's only honest thing to do."
"We'll see," Conway stalled. "I want more time to think on it."
"And I don't want you going back to prison," Teddy said soberly. Tears welled in her eyes. "I'd die if I lost you now."
This kid was really hooked on him, Conway reflected, please with his success. He reached out to touch her breast, but she pushed his hand away.
"Wait," she pleaded. "I've got to tell you something about myself first."
Here it came, Conway thought. She was about to let her family skeleton out of the closet. "It can't be that bad," he said aloud.
Teddy nodded and wiped tears from her eyes. "I'm not as pure as you seem to think I am," she said hesitantly.
"A boy friend?"
Teddy shook her head hopelessly. "I never saw him."
Conway had a premonition of what was coming.
Teddy continued, her words rushing over each other in her haste to get them out. "I was down at the lake the night before you and I met."
"Thinking of killing yourself."
"Yes." Her voice was but a whisper. "When I started to leave, this man came at me from the bushes." She trembled. "It was horrible. He pulled my sweater over my head and dragged me into a dark place and raped me."
Conway struggled to keep the amusement he felt at the confession from showing in his eyes. "All the way?"
"Yes," she said slowly. "Completely and absolutely. I was a virgin before that night."
Conway drew her to him and held her tightly. She was shaking. "You poor kid," he sympathized, hoping the words didn't sound too trite. There was something he had to know. "Did you report it to the police?"
Teddy shook her head. "I was too ashamed. Besides, they might have asked me what I was doing down there alone."
Conway felt relief. Now he knew why he'd seen nothing about it in the papers. Out loud he said, "Forget it. I'm no angel either."
Teddy looked up at him. Her eyes glistened with tears. "You really aren't mad at me?"
"Hell no," Conway soothed. "Now dry those eyes and put on some clothes."
"So soon?" She seemed disappointed.
Conway glanced at his watch. "Margo said she'd be back this afternoon. The least we can do is to greet her dressed."
Teddy got to her feet reluctantly. "She'll know what's been going on."
"You don't seem to care."
"I don't," Teddy admitted. "You may have been hers before, but you're mine now. I wouldn't mind if she walked in and found us on the floor."
"I'm not so sure that she'd appreciate your sense of humor," Conway grunted.
Teddy leaned down and kissed him on the top of his head. Her breasts swung forward, brushing his face. "You never did kiss me," she reminded him.
Conway stared at a nipple in front of him. It was smooth and unused, pink and enticing. He stuck out his tongue and teased it, watching it tremble.
"I like that," Teddy said softly from somewhere above him. "It makes me weak all over." She moved gently until the fullness brushed back and forth across his face like a pendulum. "It's so different when you've had a man. You no longer want to be modest. You want to let him use everything you own."
Conway looked up at her. His chin leaned against the breastbone, her fullnesses now on each side of his face. "Everything?" he questioned.
"Of course everything," Teddy agreed. "I have no secrets from you. I'm still burning." She knelt in front of him and laid her head in his lap. "Do it to me again, darling," she pleaded.
Conway felt the beginning of fresh passions, passions he wasn't sure he could complete. And of course there was the time. Damn the time. If there was only more of it. "We'd better wait," he said regretfully.
Teddy didn't hear him. She turned and looked at him. There was something wonderful about a man. He was at the same time beautiful and ugly.
Conway watched, fascinated, as the young girl tugged at his clothing. Her hands probed, found him, and he no longer cared what time it was. "Don't do that," he warned her, his voice husky. "Things will happen."
Teddy leaned and caressed him, her fingers fondling, probing, possessing, never ceasing in their activity until she'd almost driven him crazy.
Finally she looked up at him. There was a strange expression in her eyes. "I feel sinful," she said softly. "I feel as wicked as all of the women who have ever lived."
And with that she scurried to her feet and began an impromptu dance to an invisible beat. Her breasts bobbled in furious motion. She raised them toward him, dropped them, pinched them, let the full flesh slap against her body. She came closer, her hips working with a pagan motion, lifting her skirt, pulling him closer, drop ping the cloth over his head and trapping him against her body.
Conway nearly exploded with pleasure as she ground his head against her stomach, pushed it further down until his lips were against the smoothness of her thighs. The girl moaned contentment as he kissed her. "I like that," she panted. "More."
Conway willingly gave her more.
Together they lost their balance and went tumbling onto the hard floor, Teddy above him, her eyes glazed as she stared down at him. "It's wonderful," she cried. "You're wonderful." She ran her hand down his stomach and again touched him. "You're ready for me."
At this point Conway realized that she'd spoken the understatement of the week.
Teddy stood up, straddling him with her feet. She stripped off the skirt and stood there naked, a half smile on her face as she looked down at him. Her heavy breathing seemed to push her breasts out half a mile. "Touch me," she commanded.
Conway reached up. He laid his hand on her knee and moved it upward, sliding it along the smoothness of the thigh. His hand closed over her, and she bore her weight downward to gain more feeling.
Now she collapsed to the floor and lay beside him, her bosom a mountain of heaving flesh. Teddy turned her face to his. She smiled. "I want to watch."
Conway knelt above her and felt her fingers guide him. Once there she drew her legs against her breasts.
Teddy watched intently what was being done to her, watching the man. This time there was no pain, only the pleasure of a thousand stars descending in her head.
And when they were together, the couple on the floor became animal, clawing at each other to reach the maximum of feeling.
This time it was over quickly. Teddy screamed aloud when he exploded, writhing on the floor is the the ecstasy of what had happened between them.
Minutes later she opened her eyes and smiled at the man whose head was resting on her breast. A nipple nuzzled his ear. "Now I'll get dressed," she said, smiling. "But I won't wear any pants."
Conway licked the available tip of breast. "You never get enough, do you?"
"Never." Her eyes drifted away from him and suddenly they widened, and her face went the color of chalk.
It was no wonder. Margo was standing in the doorway looking down at them.
CHAPTER NINE
The next thirty seconds were the longest Conway had ever spent in his life. Why had he allowed himself to linger with Teddy? Why hadn't they taken a hotel room? All whys and no answers.
Margo spoke first as the couple scrambled from the floor. "My," she said slowly. "Now isn't this a cozy scene." Her voice was as brittle as ice against the side of a glass.
"How long have you been here?" Conway asked, getting into his clothes as quickly as he could.
Margo removed her coat and threw it over the couch. "Long enough to watch an interesting exhibition," she said coolly.
"Now look...." Conway began. From the look in her eye he knew there was no sense in finishing the sentence.
Margo pointed at the bedroom into which Teddy had vanished. "Get her out of here," she snapped. "I don't want that tramp Uttering up my apartment. And when you're finished I want to see you back here."
Despite the recent surprise, Conway felt anger at the way in which she was ordering him around. He held his tongue. There would be plenty of time to take care of her later.
Teddy reappeared and made straight for the front door, avoiding looking Margo in the eye. Conway started to follow her when Margo grabbed him by the arm and extended a set of keys beneath his nose.
"Take the car," she said. Her tone had strangely softened.
Conway hesitated, astonished at her offer.
Marge jangled the ring. "Go ahead," she prompted. "This way I'll be sure you'll come back.
Conway wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. At the same time he didn't agree with Margo's reasoning. There'd be nothing to prevent him from ditching the car any place he chose. Nevertheless he took the keys and hurried on to catch up with Teddy.
The young girl was just entering the elevator. As he slid through the closing door she came into his arms, sobbing. "Oh, darling," she cried. "I've never been so embarrassed in my whole life. I'll bet that horrible woman watched us from the beginning."
"You couldn't prove it by me," Conway grinned. "I was busy."
The amusement he felt was catching. Teddy managed a little smile. "It was funny at that," she admitted. "I'll bet she was even jealous."
"She should have been."
"Was I that good?"
Conway patted her on the fanny. "You're getting better all the time."
Teddy kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad. I want to be perfect so that we can enjoy each other." She looked down at herself and sighed. "I'm a mess. There wasn't much time to dress."
Conway had to agree with her. She had on the dress he'd first met her in last night. It was wrinkled, and only two buttons had been fastened above the waist. More, there was nothing beneath and the outline of her breasts clearly showed through the thin cloth.
Teddy guessed what he was thinking. "I just grabbed my underclothing and ran. She held up her hand and Conway saw the garments which she was carrying.
"You'll get stares if you go out on the street like that," he chuckled.
"Or raped again," Teddy said somberly. Her mood changed swiftly. "I'll find a ladies room and finish dressing," she smiled.
The elevator doors opened onto the basement garage. Conway guided her out of the light and into the far corner of the floor where the car was parked.
"Is this yours?" Teddy asked, staring at the convertible in front of them.
"Yep," Conway lied. "Nothing but the best for a damsel in distress."
Teddy looked at the emptiness around them. "I could finish dressing here."
"And you don't count." Teddy stripped to the waist. She was about to put on the bra when Conway took hold of a breast. "Stop that," she scolded. "I'll never get any place." But she didn't complain as he fondled one, then the other, finally kissing the tip of each tenderly. "That does things to me," she admitted, watching a nipple go into his mouth.
"Like what?"
"Like you know what. Like lying down on this cement and letting you do it all over again."
"I haven't the strength," Conway admitted.
Teddy wrinkled her nose. "We fixed that before. We can again."
"You learn fast."
"You're a good teacher." She slid into the bra and turned so that he might hook it. "I was afraid it wouldn't fit."
"It almost doesn't," Conway grunted, finishing his task.
As Teddy picked up the last piece of clothing, a pair of panties, from the fender of the car, Conway gently took them away from her. "You won't need these," he said, tossing them aside.
"I was hopping you'd say that," Teddy said softly. She put her arms about him and kissed him passionately.
Conway broke the embrace. "We'd better get going," he announced., "Otherwise we will be on that concrete floor." He held the car door open for her and she slid in, making no effort at keeping her dress down. For an instant the entry light shone on her golden body.
"Where to?" Conway asked as he slid behind the wheel.
Teddy clung tightly to him. "A hotel room and a small bed," she suggested.
Conway had never known a woman quite like this. Once her resistance had been broken down, her appetite for sex seemed insatiable. If he could keep up to her, she was going to be much better than Margo had ever been. "How about some food first? I'm hungry."
Teddy laughed softly. "That's a man for you. Always practical. All right. A meal and then a hotel room."
Shaking his head in amazement, Conway gunned the engine and hot-rodded out of the garage.
Two hours later the couple had finished eating. Now they drove in silence down the outer drive, passing over the Michigan Avenue bridge and skirting the loop. As they passed through Grant Park they could see the Planetarium in the distance.
Teddy snuggled closer to the man at her side. "That's the place where this all started," she said. "I don't know whether to be happy or sad."
Conway patted her bare thigh. She was no longer concerned with keeping her legs covered. "I'm glad," he said slowly, adding, "that you came out alive."
Teddy seemed to drift into deep thought. She came out of it suddenly. "I think you should take that money back."
Conway was a little surprised at the sudden switch. But at the same time it fitted into his thinking. "Maybe you're right," he agreed. He'd had an idea, and the more he reflected on it the better he liked it. Why not get the money, go pick her up, and get out of here? They could go to Europe or South America or some place far away. With her body, she could keep him amused for quite a while.
Conway had to admit, if only to himself, that he was a little fond of the girl. Certainly as fond as he could get of anyone. There was a remote chance that he might even wind up marrying her. A guy has to think of settling down sometime.
But he was getting ahead of himself. First of all he wasn't returning that dough. He'd worked too hard to get it. However, she didn't have to know this, not right off. Conway was sure he could sweet talk her into letting him keep it. All he needed was time.
At the moment he called himself a fool for ever having told her about it. On the other hand she'd probably have found out. She lived in a neighborhood full of ears. A thing like forty thousand is hard to keep quiet.
And Conway thought of the insurance man warning him that he'd get the dough somehow. Imagine his face when he found out his dough had flown the coop before the ten days were up.
That line of thought brought up something else. One thing puzzled Conway. He'd expected to be followed from the day he'd left prison. So far, nothing. There hadn't been a single sign of a tail. This didn't make any sense at all.
"Oh," Teddy exclaimed from next to him.
Conway looked over at her, wondering what was wrong. She was fumbling around the front seat, as if looking for something. "Lose something?"
"My purse. I forgot my purse."
"Maybe you left it back at the restaurant."
Teddy frowned. "No. I'm afraid it's back in 'the apartment."
"Great," Conway grunted. "I hope there weren't any state secrets in it. Margo will go through the thing like a bloodhound."
"No," Teddy said. "There's nothing." She didn't sound convincing.
"Never mind," he said. "You won't need a purse anyhow." He told her quickly of what he had in mind.
When he'd finished, Teddy's face was radiant. "Oh, darling," she said happily. "That's a wonderful idea. When can we leave?"
"Tonight."
She frowned suddenly. "You will give the money back?"
"After I pick you up we'll go directly to the police station and turn it in," he lied. "You'll have it with you then?"
"How else could I turn it in?"
Teddy squeezed his arm and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you," she said fervently.
"You take a cab and meet me where we met last night. I'll pick you up there about ten."
Teddy shivered. "Why there?"
"I'm not going to come into your neighborhood, not with forty grand on me. I know that place too well. If you'd like we can get together some place else."
Teddy shook her head and her smile returned. "It doesn't matter," she said softly. "As long as I have you." She sighed and leaned back against the seat and pulled the hem of her dress to her waist. "That's your reward for being honest," she said slowly, her breathing becoming irregular.
Conway looked down. She was smiling up at him. "I'm driving," he protested.
Teddy took one of his hands from the wheel. She kissed it tenderly.
Conway caressed her, and as he listened to the girl whimper in pleasure he knew that he really had it made.
CHAPTER TEN
After Conway dropped the girl off he needed a drink before facing Margo. Naturally enough he gravitated toward Clancy's.
It was late afternoon when he walked into the bar. The place was almost empty, except for one couple necking in a back booth. Clancy himself was nowhere in sight.
Conway ordered a whiskey and sat at the bar, sipping the amber fluid, contemplating his future. He liked what he saw ahead. Life with Teddy would be exciting if nothing else.
Sure, she'd put up a stink when she found out he wasn't about to return the money. But what could she do about it? Conway doubted that she'd leave him. All he'd have to do would be to lift her dress. Teddy loved him too much to go far by herself.
Conway pondered the fickleness of womanhood. Give any of them enough of what they want and they'll go the whole route. They made the world a very interesting place.
His problem now was Margo. First he had to return the car. Then he'd tell her of his plans. But why tell her anything?
Conway ordered another drink, pondering his own question. Maybe it was because he wanted to see her face when she found out she'd lost him. The woman had been so damned sure of herself. It could be that he wanted to get back at her for walking in on them this afternoon. What did a reason matter? He just wanted to get it off his chest that he didn't belong to her like so much baggage.
As Conway finished his second whiskey, Clancy came through the front door. He saw the younger man and a broad smile filled his flabby face.
"I been looking for you," he announced. "You wanted a job. I got one for you."
"Doing what?"
Clancy leaned against the stool next to Conway's. He looked around to see if anyone was listening. They were alone. The bartender polished his glasses at the far end of the bar.
"Collector," Clancy continued. "The boys need a new one. They like your style. Forty per cent of the take."
That was good dough, Conway reflected. And the work was easy. All he had to do was wander around picking up the take on numbers, tracks, and whatever was going at the moment. It was also a class job, offered to a privileged few. However the offer had come too late. His plans were set. "No-can-do," Conway said. "I got something better on the fire."
"Suit yourself," Clancy shrugged. "Think it over. There's no hurry." He added, "By the way, a friend of yours has been keeping this place hot."
"Who?"
"A tall, slender guy with ice for eyes. I'd make book that he's some kind of cop."
The insurance investigator. Conway grinned. "That crumb. He's after the money."
"Want me to take care of him?"
Conway shook his head. "There's no need. He'll get tired of hanging around."
"I don't like it," Clancy growled. "It gives the place a bad name. He sure hates your guts. I talked to him a while last night, feeling him out. He sure had nothing good to say about you."
"Nobody likes any of us down in this neighborhood," Conway reminded the portly figure. "We're supposed to be the has-beens."
Clancy grinned. "They should have our dough." He winked broadly, changing the subject abruptly. "By the way, I hear you been playing footsie with the Grinson dame."
Conway was instantly on his guard. "Where the hell did you hear that?" he snapped.
"Here and there," Clancy said. "You were up to her place last night. Then you went to the PETER'S joint and had a good look at her. After that a cab driver says you chased her down to Grant Park in his taxi."
Conway had panicked briefly, but then he decided there was no harm in anyone knowing that part of his business. At the same time his mind was refreshed as to how fast news did travel in the old neighborhood. It was a good warning. "I suppose I have been seeing her," he admitted. "What of it?"
Clancy took out a cigar and puffed it into life. "Nothing," he grunted, tossing his smoldering match onto the floor. "But if I was you, kid, I'd be a little careful with that broad. She's real flaky."
Conway fought a desire to leap to Teddy's defense. Instead he asked, calmly, "In what way."
Clancy shrugged. "Frankly she's a nut. No guy I know of has ever gotten anywhere with her. She don't seem to give a damn about holding onto a job. Her mother has been pro for God knows how many years to support the kid. PETER'S took her on to give the old lady a break." He flicked an ash from the cigar. "On top of everything else she's tried a half dozen times to knock herself off. She's just one of those miserably unhappy characters that ain't happy with what she's got. Hell, with her looks she could make a real bundle. I once offered her two G's a week to work the men in here. She spit in my face. Nope, she just ain't any good."
Conway had listened, but he'd only believed half of what he'd been told. The answer to Clancy's bitterness lay in his being refused by the girl. It looked as if Teddy had more sense than Conway had given her credit for. "I'd better go," he announced, sliding off his stool.
Clancy clapped him on the shoulder. "Think over that job offer, kid. Give me an answer any time this month."
It was dark when Conway slid into Margo's car. He was about to drive off when he heard someone calling out his name. He looked over and saw Dolly coming his way. She slid onto the seat beside him without waiting for an invitation.
"I was praying that I'd see you," she said, a little breathless from running to meet him.
Conway took a good look at the girl. In the two days since he'd last seen her she'd changed drastically. There were deep circles beneath her eyes and the light smile had been changed into a frown. "What's up?" he asked.
"Let's go some place where we can talk privately," Dolly suggested.
Conway shook his head. "I'm in kind of a hurry. Spill it."
Tears formed in the young girl's eyes. She worked her handkerchief, as if about to tear it to shreds. "I ... I have a proposition to offer you," she began hesitantly. She looked up at him. "Do you like me ... I mean do you like my body?"
"I never thought about it one way or the other," Conway admitted, wondering what was coming.
He wasn't long in finding out. Dolly had entered the car wearing a coat. Now she pulled it open. Beneath the covering the young girl was absolutely stark naked. "Now what do you think of me?" she asked softly.
Conway looked around. Fortunately there was no one near the car to see her lavish display. He turned back toward the nude body, frankly disgusted with what he was seeing. He knew that the girl had been well used. He could build no desire for something that had been offered to the public so blatantly.
"What's the deal?" he asked.
The tears were still in Dolly's eyes. One of them had trickled onto her cheek. "You can have me all you want, any way you want, for a year. I'll make you a good mistress."
Despite his disgust, Conway was pleased that she thought so highly of him. His charm had certainly been clicking since he'd gotten out of prison. "You can't be giving this away for nothing," he guessed.
"No," Dolly agreed, continuing to work on her handkerchief. "In exohange for my body I want a thousand dollars."
Conway almost laughed in her face. She was hardly worth two bucks, let alone a thousand. "To hell with that noise," he growled. "I've never paid in my life. I'm not starting now."
"Please," Dolly pleaded. The tears were flowing freely, faster than she could mop them up. "I must have the money."
"Why?" Conway snapped. "You need a new fur coat?"
It was obvious that the young girl was miserable. "No," she said, her voice but a whisper. "I'm in trouble and I need money."
Conway wasn't surprised. "How'd you get in a jam?"
Dolly shook her head. "I don't know. I thought I was careful."
"Why doesn't your so-called gang take up a collection and have you fixed?"
The young girl continued to dab at her eyes. "They won't have anything to do with me," she sobbed. "I need help desperately. I thought with you having that forty thousand and all, you'd be glad to help me."
Conway wondered why Clancy hadn't warned him that this dame was crazy too. Imagine, getting herself in trouble and then running to him for help. It might have been different if he'd slept with her along with everyone else in the neighborhood. This way he was supposed to pay off without having any of the gravy.
"Please," Dolly persisted. "If you'll let me have the money I'll try and pay it back. I'll start charging for myself. You can send me men."
Now she was asking him to become a pimp for her. "I'm in a hurry," he growled. "You'll have to get the dough someplace else."
Dolly's eyes widened as if unable to comprehend that he'd refused her. "No," she cried. "You've got to give it to me."
"Out of the car," Conway ordered coldly. "I'm not giving you anything."
Dolly clung to him in desperation, sobbing wildly, hysterically.
In the end, Conway had to evict her bodily, opening the door and shoving her into the street. He looked back once, as he blasted away, and saw her looking hopelessly after him.
By the time Conway pulled into the garage below Margo's apartment he'd calmed a little from the effect Dolly had had upon him. Once he'd left her behind he'd realized that he might have been wrong in deserting her like that. He'd even become a little sorry for her.
There was a little more to it than that. The code of the old neighborhood was that the guy who had, helped the guy who hadn't. Everybody suspected he'd hit the forty grand. If he didn't help out Dolly he could never go back there again. Conway wasn't quite ready to burn all of his bridges behind him. The money wouldn't last forever. There'd come a day when he'd need a fresh start. It was only smart to smooth out the future a little.
He pulled into a parking place, making a mental note that he and Teddy would drop by Clancy's before they left town and leave the grand behind for the girl.
That problem solved, Conway looked ahead to a new one: Margo.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Margo was in the kitchen when Conway entered the apartment. Much to his surprise she smiled when she saw him. "You were longer than I expected," she said.
"I stopped by Clancy's for a drink," he explained.
"Did you get your girl friend home all right?" There was no trace of cynicism in the remark.
Conway didn't get it. He'd expected Margo to be broiling and tossing things all over the place. Her calmness aggravated him a little. She was spoiling the fun of what he was going to tell her. "Yeah," he agreed. "She's okay." He fixed himself a drink, swallowing it, then poured another.
Margo went to the window and pulled the blind, then turned back to face him. "This is our first evening together since you arrived home," she announced.
Conway studied the woman, trying to make some sense from her. As usual she was underdressed. The skirt was tissue paper thin, outlining the panties beneath. Her breasts had no protection other than the white sweater. The nipples were protruding outlines of darkness beneath the cloth. "Yeah," he agreed. "I guess it is." He took another drink, working up his courage.
Margo came a step closer, "I hope that you didn't wear yourself out," she said slowly. "I expect to be taken care of tonight." She swept the sweater back off her breasts and used both hands to lift one of the fullnesses toward him. "We missed you, Steve," she said softly.
Her display made Conway sick. He looked at the breast. It didn't hold a candle beside one of Teddy's. Margo's had been overused.
Margo wasn't finished. "How many times did you do it with her, Steve?" she asked. "Twice? Three times? Or did you go for over an hour like you did with me that first time in the car? That drives a woman crazy. It drove me crazy. After that I couldn't get enough of you." She took a deep breath and continued. "Have you shown her your shower trick yet? I've never known such a talented man with his body as you are, Steve. You've got so much to teach a girl. This Teddy has a great deal to learn."
"Lay off," Conway growled.
Margo's tone had turned sugar-sweet. "Why, Steve? Don't you like to be complimented? I'm just showing you my appreciation for your making me what I am today. I'm a successful hooker, and I owe it all to you. I owe this apartment to you. I owe all the money I have in the bank to you. Why shouldn't I tell you that I'm thankful?"
Conway knew that he was being needled. Just why, he couldn't figure out-unless this was her way of getting back at him. An old kids' quotation popped into his head: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.' "If you're mad at me, why the hell don't you just throw something?" Conway spat.
Margo shook her head. "But I'm not angry, Steve," she protested. "I'm not in the least upset. I've had my fun these past two days. You've had yours. We'll just let it go at that and climb into bed together."
Her blatant attitude toward sex sickened him. Conway glanced at his watch. It was almost eight-thirty. He had to make his move soon. The storage house was open until nine. He had that much time to pick up the money and get over to meet Teddy. There was no use stalling any longer. He took one last, fast drink, hoping it was enough to give him the courage he needed.
At the same time Conway wondered just why he did need to be so damned brave. He wasn't married to Margo. He was privileged to walk out on her any damn time he chose.
Well, he chose this moment. "Don't get yourself all heated up," he said. "We aren't going to bed, not now or any time in the future."
If he'd expected this statement to shake her up he was wrong. She just kept looking at him with those big cow eyes.
"We're through, Margo," Conway continued hastily, lest he lose his nerve. "You're a beat-up broad who's washed out. "I'm getting myself some fresh material."
"Like your precious Teddy?" There was still no inflection in her voice that he could catch. She might as well have been announcing that dinner was ready.
"Yeah," he growled, more angry at her because she had no reaction. In his mind he'd pictured this as fun, his telling her off. So far, nothing.
Margo lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. "I'm not stopping you, Steve," she said slowly. "If you want this girl you're perfectly welcome to her. Lord knows I have no hold on you."
Now that statement Conway hadn't expected at all. The woman was infuriating him. He felt like slapping her sassy face. He hesitated a moment longer, then bolted for the door. He had one hand on the knob when Margo spoke again from behind him.
"Perhaps you'd better take this Teddy her handbag," she said evenly. "She left it behind today in her rush to get out of here."
Conway retraced his steps and grabbed the purse Margo was dangling from her fingertips.
"You're a fool, Steve," Margo suddenly snapped angrily. "You're a damned, sex-happy, blind, stupid fool."
Conway stopped, looking up into her face in surprise. Her eyes were flashing.
"What made you think that insurance investigator would send out a man to follow you?" she continued hotly. "He knew your weakness. Suppose he sent a young girl to do the job for him."
The implication of her statement staggered Conway. It was something he'd never thought of before.
Margo moved closer to him. "Suppose you were baited. What if it was intended that you rape that girl."
Conway's mouth was suddenly dry.
But Margo didn't quit. She had more to say. "You were supposed to get the money tonight, weren't you?"
"How ... how did you know?"
The woman's face was victorious. "Figure it out for yourself." She pointed at the purse still in his hand. "Why don't you open it up? There's a big surprise in there."
Conway stared at the bag as if it were about to bite him. Finally, stirred to action, he dumped the contents on the coffee table. There was the usual junk ... except for one small, white business card. His hands shook as he picked it up and read the printing. AMALGA MATED INSURANCE COMPANY. HARRY SMITH. INVESTIGATOR
Conway crumpled the card into a ball and threw it violently onto the floor. "That little minx," he spat. The pieces had fallen together, and everything was so simple. That louse Smith had warned him he'd get the money. And he hadn't sent a man. He'd sicced Teddy onto him. She was following him that night by the lake. And like a damned fool he'd raped her. Then, to make matters worse, he'd looked her up and walked right into her trap. No wonder she'd been so anxious for him to give the money back to the police. She was probably in for a nice, fat cut.
"You still meeting your little angel tonight?" Marge asked, triumph in her voice.
Conway stalked toward the door in a rage. "You're damned right I am," he spat. "I've got a few things to say to that tramp."
Margo followed him and put her arms about his shoulders, kissing him generously. "I'll be waiting for you when you get back," she smiled. "The bed will be waiting."
Conway burst from the apartment. He was going to knock that babe's teeth in for pulling a stunt like this.
By the time Conway reached their meeting place he'd calmed somewhat. However he still smoldered with anger at having been made such a patsy. This dame had to be taught a lesson.
He parked the car in the planetarium parking lot. As far as he could see there was no one around. The sound of the wind through the trees covered any noise of the lake beating on the breakwater.
Conway left the convertible and walked across the grass to the point where he'd laid her down after pulling her from the water. Standing on that spot he felt a trifle sad. Things might have worked out between himself and the girl. He knew now that he'd felt more strongly toward her than any other woman he'd ever met.
Conway smashed a clenched fist into his open hand in frustration. The little vixen. Why did she have to pull a stunt like this? Why?
He settled down to wait for her, lighting a cigarette and pondering why the world had been so cruel to him.
Fifteen minutes later a car turned onto the side road leading into the park. It's lights swept over Conway, blinding him for a moment.
The machine stopped a short distance away and someone got out. It roared off, leaving the quiet behind.
"Steve?" a voice called out. It was Teddy.
Conway controlled the coldness of his anger. "Over here," he called out.
The young girl approached, carrying a suitcase. She set it down and ran the rest of the way into his arms. She seemed to be shivering. "Oh, darling," she sobbed. "I was so afraid that you were making fun of me and wouldn't be here." She kissed him fervently.
Conway had to admit that the girl was putting on a damned good act for his benefit. But if he had any doubts concerning her intentions toward him her next question dispeled them.
"Did you bring the money?"
"Yeah," Conway grunted. "I did."
"Where is it?"
"In the car," he lied.
Teddy squeezed his arm against one lush breast. "Then let's go. This place frightens me." She frowned, adding, "I will have to stop and make a phone call. Mother wasn't home. I'd like to tell her good-bye."
So that's how she intended letting Smith know where they were leaving from, Conway reflected. It also told him that the chances were good they weren't being watched. That was just fine. He needed time for what he had in mind.
Teddy continued to tug at his arm, but he ignored her insistence. "There's no hurry," Conway said slowly. "Our plane doesn't leave until midnight." He put one arm about her and drew the girl against him. Despite the anger he felt for her, she was exciting warm and soft. As he put a hand on her breast he noticed that she was wearing the same sweater she'd worn the night of the rape. Somehow it seemed appropriate.
"I want you," he said softly, forcing his tongue between her teeth.
"Now?"
Conway nodded. What the hell! He'd get one last ride out of the dame. This would be one she'd never forget. When she seemed on the verge of protesting he ran his hand down between them and fondled her through the dress. She went limp in his arms.
"I can't argue when you touch me like that," she whispered.
Conway guided her away from the road until they were in a clump of bushes.
"Get my suitcase," she said softly. "Someone might see it."
When he returned with the bag she'd already removed her sweater and skirt. She stood before him, radiant in the remaining bra and half slip. Conway sucked in his breath. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful she was. He again damned her for what she'd done to him.
"It seems even more wicked undressing out here in public like this," she smiled.
"You still have clothes on," Conway reminded her.
"Do I?" Teddy swept the bra away and her big breasts bobbled into view. Next went the slip.
Conway stared at the stockings. They were black and looked like pure sin against the color of her flesh. Garter straps snaked up her thighs and ran beneath the transparent panties to the belt about her waist. "You really dressed formal," Conway growled.
"A lady always wears stockings when she travels," Teddy explained.
Conway pulled her to him and kissed her savagely, putting some of his anger into the contact. At the same time he grasped a breast and held it tightly.
Teddy pulled away. "Not so rough," she protested. "That hurt."
It was only the beginning, Conway thought beneath his breath. He felt his anger getting away from him."
Teddy saw the expression on his face. "Is something wrong?"
"Yeah," Conway growled. "There sure as hell is."
The young girl was suddenly concerned. "What?"
Conway didn't become angry often. But when he did the symptoms were always the same. Now he felt them. His head was like a stuffed balloon, and he could feel the heat in his face. "You should know," he snapped.
Teddy stepped away from him. "No," she said. "I don't understand. If I've done something wrong, tell me."
Conway slapped her. That helped him let off steam. The blow was loud in the quiet of the night. It threw Teddy backward. "You little tramp," he exploded, losing all control. "How in the hell did you expect to get away with it?"
Teddy was stunned. She stood immobile, staring at him, not recognizing the twisted face in front of her.
And there was fear in the expression on her face now. Something she'd seen in his eyes had terrorized her. "Please, Steve," she pleaded. "Tell me what this is all about."
"You let me rape you that night," he spat. "You knew it was me all the time."
At the words, Teddy's face went white as a sheet. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the vastness of the park.
Conway started after her as she ran, a half-naked nymph bursting from the bushes and scampering over the lawn, ignoring the dew on the grass, ignoring everything but the madman at her heels.
Teddy never had a chance. Before she'd gone fifty feet Conway caught her and threw her to the ground. She screamed again and again. Nothing did any good.
Conway vented his full fury on the girl. He stripped her of her remaining clothing, tearing the panties and the stockings to shreds and tossing them to the wind. Then he did the only thing left to do. He pinned the kicking figure down with a knee and ravaged her. He twisted her breasts until her cries became thunder in his ears.
More. Conway was getting his revenge. Steeped in sweat he attacked the youthful body with his fingers and his teeth and did things to her no sane man would do. He vanquished her, mauled her until no one would have wanted to touch her.
Then and only then did he stagger to his feet and attempt to catch his breath. He stared in fury down at the huddled clump of flesh sobbing pitifully at his feet. It would be a long time before she'd attempt to lure another sucker into her trap.
Satisfied, Conway made his way to the car. He'd done a good evening's work.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The first thing Conway did when he entered Margo's apartment was head for the bar. The second was to throw down the stiff drink he'd poured himself.
Then he collapsed in a chair and lit a cigarette with trembling hands. He was no longer angry. He just felt as if someone had cut out his guts and tossed them away.
He'd been more fond of Teddy than he'd cared to admit, even to himself. And now that she was gone he felt only fuzzy.
On the way back to the apartment Conway had thought over their brief relationship together. In reflection he'd realized that she'd been too quick to give herself to him. He should have known at the time that something was wrong.
Well, Conway thought bitterly, something had been wrong all right-the girl. She was just as crazy as Clancy had suggested.
What would she do now? Conway wondered why he even bothered thinking of her future. He no longer gave a damn about her. He figured that she'd probably go back to PETER'S, and now that she'd learned the ropes, make some real money for a change-after she'd healed.
Of course there were a few pieces that didn't fit together, but Conway was too tired to figure them out now.
He looked up as Margo came into the room. She stood there, naked, looking over at him, a half smile spread across her face. "I thought I heard you come in," she said. "I've been waiting in bed for you."
"I needed a drink."
"Did you take care of your Teddy?"
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "I did."
Margo came over and sat down beside him, putting her hands protectively in her lap. "Don't feel too bad about it," she soothed. "We all make mistakes."
Conway looked at the woman. Suddenly, with the blindness of Teddy gone, she looked good to him. He had to say one thing about Margo, she stuck with him through thick and thin-and always came back for more. Damned few women would do as much. He reached out and slid his hands to her thighs. Damned if she didn't excite him.
"Were you taking the money and going away with her?" Margo asked softly.
"Yeah," Conway admitted bitterly. "That was the general idea."
Margo relaxed her legs just a little, taking his hand in hers and pulling it higher on her body. Her stomach trembled as she drove herself at him in short bursts, encouraging him to do more than just hold her.
"Wouldn't I do as a substitute?" she asked slowly.
Conway looked at her in surprise. At the same time he felt of her warmth. It was obvious to him that this was one woman who was completely and absolutely his. There was little doubting her loyalty. Hadn't she met him at the prizon? Wasn't she patient while he was mixed up with the other girl?
And there was more. Conway knew that Teddy would head straight for Smith, the insurance investigator, as soon as she had her clothing back on. At this moment they were probably holding a council of war.
Wouldn't it be smart, Conway reflected, to make his move before Smith figured out another cute idea? By the time that crumb recovered from his last failure, Margo and he could be out of the country living high on the dough.
The more he thought of the idea the more he liked it. Margo was still a damned good tumble, and it'd be fun to have her along. On top of that she wouldn't object if he grabbed extra action now and then.
Conway grinned broadly. "You wouldn't mind playing second fiddle?"
Margo looked pointedly at his hand fondling her. "It looks as if I'm first-string now. I'll go anywhere you take me."
Conway thought rapidly. "We'll take out of here bright and early in the morning, stop long enough to pick up the money, and head for the airport. We'll be on the first plane out of the country."
"Fine," Margo sighed rapidly. She lifted a breast and pressed it into his mouth. "Now that it's settled, suppose we go to bed."
They did exactly that. Fifteen minutes later, as Conway felt himself soar, there was only one thing that bothered him. This wasn't Margo beneath him. It was Teddy.
Only when Conway was absolutely certain that they hadn't been followed did he drive into the Northside Storage parking lot. Just as he'd suspected, Smith had been thrown off the scent by Conway's brutalizing Teddy. He hadn't yet been able to organize his forces.
"Is this where you took the money?" Margo asked as Conway prepared to leave the car.
"Yeah," Conway admitted.
There was admiration in Margo's voice. "What a wonderful idea."
Conway nodded his agreement as he stepped onto the hot pavement.
Getting the money was simple. It took all of five minutes to show his signature and claim the box. He returned to the car and ripped the container open. His hands shook as he retrieved the bank's money bag.
"Is it all there? Margo asked anxiously over his shoulder.
Conway dipped his hand in the cloth sack and pulled out a handful of hundred-dollar bills. "I never had time to count it," he grinned. "I'll just have to take the bank's word for the amount."
"We'd better get going," Margo said nervously looking around them.
Conway agreed. He slid behind the wheel and took off, heading for the airport.
It was a quick trip, even counting the stop for a phone call Margo made. She'd forgotten to tell her landlord that she was giving up the apartment.
Conway parked in the lot and looked at Margo. "What about the car?"
"Forget it," she suggested. "Remember? It doesn't belong to me."
Conway took the money and stuffed it into her suitcase. Then he carried it into the busy lobby, ignoring the porters scrambling for his business.
For a moment he stood still, enjoying the hurried bustle about him. The place had the smell of freedom. He was home safe. All that money, luxury, the lure of far-away places ... not to mention a dame that he could enjoy it with.
Thinking of Margo, he turned to see where she'd gone. She was there, standing a few feet away from him, turning around as if searching for someone. There was an odd look on her face. The smile she was so free in giving had faded, replaced by an expression he found hard to recognize. "You coming?" Conway prompted. "We got places to go."
The girl went dutifully along with him to a ticket counter.
"I'd like a couple of first-class seats to Europe," Conway told the man behind the wood.
"Where in Europe?" the passenger agent asked.
Conway hadn't thought that far ahead. He looked at the schedule of departures on the television set and saw a flight to Italy was ready to board. "I guess Italy would be fine," he said.
The clerk picked up his telephone. "I'll see if we have space available."
Conway fidgeted while he waited. Margo's nervousness was catching. Just then he caught sight of a familiar figure coming toward him. Recognition was instantaneous. It was Smith, the insurance investigator.
Conway felt his heart plummet. It took him a moment to jump into action. By then it was too late. Smith was blocking his way.
"Don't be a fool," Smith snapped, guessing what the younger man had in mind. "I can have this whole place sealed off in three minutes. You haven't a chance of getting away."
Conway's mouth had suddenly gone dry and his brain was spinning wildly at this unexpected turn of events.
"Where's the money?" Smith snapped.
Conway fought for sanity. "What money?" he managed to say. "I was just taking a little trip." The words out in the open had a naked sound.
"It's in my bag, Harry," Margo spoke up from beside them. "He put it there before we came in for the plane."
Conway spun on the girl in astonishment. But she wasn't Margo. She was someone he'd never met in his life. Her expression was twisted in hate, tinged with venom. He didn't understand any of this. He tried to say something, but his throat wouldn't cooperate.
Smith had retrieved the case from the scale and opened it. He extracted the money bag and held it in front of Conway. His stony eyes had given way to an amused expression. "You are a punk kid," he said dryly. "I told you we had ways."
"How-?" It was all Conway could get out.
Smith seemed proud of his accomplishments. He ignored the crowd that was beginning to gather about them. "It was Margo's idea," he said slowly, enjoying every word. "She came to me while you were still in prison. I set her up in the apartment and gave her the car. All she had to do was stick to you until you came up with the money." He took a deep breath and continued. "I was following you the night you raped the Grinson girl. After that it was easy. Margo stayed away from her apartment and let you have your fun. Then, when you were ready to take off, Margo put my card in the girl's purse and suggested that Teddy was the plant. You fell like a ton of bricks. Margo figured you'd come back to her. You did." He shrugged, adding coldly. "I said you were stupid. You proved it yourself."
Conway listened to the man talk, the words spinning in his ears like angry bees. He turned to Margo. "But why?" he asked.
"You thought you owned me," the woman spat angrily. "You took my virginity and turned me into a tramp. No man can do that and get away with it. I spent two years thinking of a way to get even." Her anger had brought tears to her eyes as she added, "I found a way."
Through his confusion Conway thought of something else. "And Teddy was never a part of it?"
Smith shook his head. "The poor kid never knew what was going on," he admitted.
From somewhere Conway felt fresh strength. The knowledge that Teddy hadn't deserted him helped. His old feeling for the young girl surged back within him.
And Conway thought of something else. They had the money now. That's all Smith had wanted in the first place. He was still free. They couldn't do anything to him. He turned cocky. "Okay," he growled. "You've got what you wanted. So I didn't give the money back voluntarily. Your deal was that you had to have it in ten days or else."
"That's right," Smith agreed soberly.
"So okay," Conway said, smiling insolently. He began to move away, gaining fresh confidence every second. He had a crazy thought. Maybe ... just maybe he could talk Teddy into coming back to him. Sure, he'd done her dirt; but the gal would understand. Wasn't she hooked on him? Nobody ever left Steve Conway for long. And there was still that job Clancy had offered. The future wasn't quite as black as he'd first believed. He might even figure a way to get back at Margo for what she'd done. That dame deserved anything she got. "So I'll be going now," he announced out loud. "I got things to do, places to go."
"Not so fast," Smith snapped. His old anger had returned. "There's still the matter of Teddy Grinson." He waved his hand and, as if by magic, a half dozen police descended on their little group.
Conway stopped in his tracks. He never had liked the law. "What about Teddy?" he spat. "She's none of your concern."
Smith shoved his face forward. The veins were standing straight out. "She was found in the yacht basin this morning," he said, having difficulty controlling his rage. "She was dead. A cab driver saw you waiting for her there last night. Your prints were on her suitcase. You got even with her, all right. You threw her into the lake after ravaging her like an animal."
Conway reeled backward as if he'd been struck in the face. He would have fallen if a policeman hadn't caught him. He opened his mouth to scream out his innocence. Didn't these people know? Teddy was suicide-prone. This time she'd succeeded. How could he have killed her? He loved her.
Loved? Conway heard the words. For the space of a second the depths of his twisted mind opened and he knew the truth. He'd been in love with Teddy all the time.
Conway said nothing. Who would believe him? He hardly believed himself.
The boy had grown to manhood, and the man had failed.
The warden had been right. Steve Conway was returning to prison.
