Still not taking her eyes off the screen, she elbowed him as he zeroed in on her. “Back off, creep.”
He laughed as Angela stepped back from the kiss, licking her lips, to pull the woman into the room. As if knowing the camera was there, Angela turned her lover fully into view of the lens.
Max did gasp then and put a hand to her mouth.
In that drab, cheesy hotel room, Angela Rocket undid the zipper, pushed aside dress and bra to the waist, then pinched pebbled nipples for the camera.
Julia La Russa moaned, then turned to receive her lover’s tongue in her mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Max pushed the stop button and rose slowly. Setting the remote on the ottoman, she turned on Bud.
“How did you get that video?”
“Angela is a very helpful girl, isn’t she, Max?”
“You’re blackmailing people and using Angela to do it.”
“With Angela, use isn’t the operative word, Max. She’s paid handsomely. So is her little friend Hammerhead, who was in charge of setting up the equipment.” Only Traynor would call Hammerhead little.
He smiled, crossing his legs, the robe parting to show thigh. He looked like a hairy spider and turned her stomach just as easily.
“Would you like to see my video library?” he invited. “You’d be surprised who I’ve immortalized on disk, Max. And most of my treasures are still waiting for the right moment to be brought out and put to use.”
Her belly turned over. Why did the unthinkable keep coming back to taunt her? Bud could not have videoed her with Witt because Witt had chosen Hammerhead’s car. Not the other way around. She clung to the thought.
Pushing the ottoman out of the way with her calf, she gave herself plenty of room to move if she had to. She wasn’t afraid to admit Bud scared the crap out of her. Though she wasn’t about to let him see it. She shifted into battle stance. What was his plan? What did he want? Why the hell had he supplied her with his own motive?
She remembered Cameron’s question. Who stood to lose the most power? Traynor did.
“That’s why you wanted him dead, isn’t it? Because Lance wanted Angela to stop doing tricks. He wanted exclusivity. No more men, no more videos. Your little blackmail scheme would go right up in smoke.” That’s what the dream had portrayed, Lance’s anger over the videos.
Bud laughed, put his arm along the back of the couch and braced his head on his hand. The robe once again shifted, exposing the tip of his penis. Just as her uncle had always done, just the tip, the very tip.
“God, I love you, Max. I really do. You’re so bright. You see the lascivious in everything.”
“In everything to do with you. Did you even care who committed the murder for you?” No, by the glint in his eye, she could see he didn’t. Baxter, Julia, Hammerhead, even Angela herself. Traynor didn’t care. He’d probably manipulated them all, but only Julia had succumbed.
“Sometimes it’s the act itself that counts, Max, not the actor.” He dropped his hand, parted the folds of his robe, and deliberately wrapped his fist around his cock. “The way you look at me almost makes me come, Max. Such anger. Such hate.” He pumped himself to hardness.
To make a comment, to move, even to look away from that massaging fist would shift power in his favor. Max spoke as if it neither scared her nor moistened her insides. “You lied to me in the beginning, didn’t you?”
He rewarded her words with a little moue of pleasure.
She went on. “You never wanted to marry Julia. You never wanted her money. You wanted her to kill for you. How’d you get her to do it?”
He threw back his head and guffawed. “I love that you believe me capable of mind control. You ascribe such power to me, Max. It makes me want to live up to your expectations. Let me come in your mouth, my love.” He added the last too easily, and gripped harder, pumping faster.
God, if he came with her watching ... Max couldn’t bear to think about it.
“It isn’t power. It’s evil. Not something to be proud of.” She stopped. Venom filled her, poured over into her next words. “Tell me, what would you have done if Julia had killed them both, effectively halting your little video scheme?”
“I’d have groomed another Angela.” He smiled. “Perhaps even you, Max.” He tipped his head, still working his cock, and waited for her reaction. She gave him nothing.
“Of course, you can’t prove any of this, Max. Can you? Believe me, I’m going to love your frustration over that.”
“I’ll prove it. Some day. Somehow. I’ll make people see you for what you are.”
“Come closer, Max,” he cajoled. “Will you swallow my cum if I promise to tell you how I did it?”
“You’ve already tried that ruse. The answer is no.”