So my search continues.

Night all.

X.

Paige read over the words again, not sure if they were what she really wanted to say. Then again, what she really wanted to say wasn't suitable for public consumption. It was meant for Vinden's eyes only.

Satisfied with her blog, she clicked the send b.u.t.ton with a smirk, praying her words would lure the mystery woman out of hiding.

It was time for Vinden to prove her wrong.

Chapter Eight.

"Why exactly are you bringing me back to the scene of the crime?" Samantha grumbled as they stepped into the ice cream parlor the following afternoon.

"You said you needed to know where to send the cops in case my body was found floating under the boardwalk."

Fact was, Paige needed to see the front door, touch the counter, and sit in the very same spot she had the night before. Needed to know this game was real. That the mystery woman was real. As real as the phone in her purse that hadn't so much as chirped all day. What was the use of giving Paige a connection if she wasn't going to connect? Or was she waiting for Paige to cave in out of desperation and contact her first?

"She really left a package here?" Sam eyed the cashier. "Is it the same girl?"

Paige looked around the man ahead of them to see a middle-aged woman, probably the owner. "No. It was a young girl."

"Hmm."

"Still convinced she's a serial killer?" Paige fingered the necklace, then bit one of the pieces into her mouth. "Who lures her prey with candy trinkets?"

It was confirmed. She was a mental case. And h.o.r.n.y. An enchanted, h.o.r.n.y mental case. Who got her thrills from mysterious adventures, from mysterious women, in mysterious places.

"Serial killers will use any means necessary to lure their victims." Sam c.o.c.ked one brow up.

Paige bit off another piece. "Candy necklaces? Really, Sam? Really?"

"Any means necessary, Paige. Maybe she knows you're cheap and easy." Sam batted her lashes as the person in line in front of them took their order and left.

Paige ordered a dark chocolate cone, then sat in the exact chair she had the night before. She glanced through the window to inspect the stores across the street as well as the alleys in between, now visible in daylight. Vinden had been in one of those darkened pa.s.sageways the previous night, watching her, while Paige waited, wanting her, needing the prospect of what she offered.

Her body heated with the thought.

Sam sat across from her. "You need to stop this obsessive behavior before you get yourself killed."

Was this obsessive? Was this crazy? Had she lost her mind?

If so, why didn't she feel anything other than need? Other than this unbearable craving?

Sam was right. Paige knew that. She definitely had a point. This was crazy. All of it. Not just Vinden and her little games, but all the years she'd spent hankering after a dream, a fantasy, a probably flawed memory of perfection, that went way back to New Orleans when she had s.e.x with a woman who could have been anyone. Anything.

But those factors didn't matter to Paige. She didn't care what a person looked like. She didn't care if they were dirt poor. All she wanted was the b.u.t.terflies. The heat between her thighs. And a woman who could burn out her flame. Over. And over. And over.

In her mind, that wasn't asking too much. In reality, it was asking far more than was obtainable. Only once had she found what she was looking for. What she needed. If she was ever going to find it again, she was convinced it would be inside this game, with yet another stranger. That was her choice and her choice alone.

And she chose to dive headfirst into the fire.

Let everyone think she'd lost it. Let everyone believe whatever they wanted. She truly couldn't care less. They didn't have to walk in her shoes and they couldn't share in her glorious experience.

"Sam, I can't make you understand this situation. But I love you for worrying."

"As long as you keep your will and life insurance policy up to date, it's all good, I guess." Sam spooned ice cream into her mouth, but Paige could see the worry in her eyes, in her tone.

Paige patted her hand. She adored that Sam was a worrywart. Other than her grandmother, she'd never had anyone who cared about her well-being. It was nice. Sometimes.

Out of habit for the last twelve hours, Paige checked the new cell phone again, waiting with bated breath for any word from Vinden. What would her next adventure be? Would it end with s.e.x? Surely, the scavenger hunt was leading there. Where else could it lead?

She wanted it so bad. Needed to know how it compared to her night in New Orleans. Needed to know if it would yank her nerves into blissful heat.

"Will you stop checking that d.a.m.n phone? You're pathetic."

"Pathetically h.o.r.n.y."

Hidden behind the edge of the office door, Mayson watched Paige subconsciously finger the necklace. She'd stopped by to touch base with the manager and go over any pressing matters and had been ready to leave the office when she spotted Paige and her friend pa.s.sing the gla.s.s windows.

Mayson couldn't stop smiling. She'd gotten to Paige and liked it. A lot. Even better, watching Paige caress that necklace like a lover's stroke was the most erotic thing she'd ever witnessed. It was better than p.o.r.n.

Her insides cramped as Paige pulled a bead into her mouth and sucked.

"So what happens next? Where is the next pit stop in this possible blood bath?" Paige's friend inquired.

Paige switched from the candy back to her ice cream. Dark chocolate looked enticing smearing against her tongue. Not nearly as erotic as the night before.

Mayson shifted to ease the sting crawling between her thighs. This yearning was incredible. Fascinating, in fact. She'd been with plenty of women. Had watched them from afar, and up close. Yet none had the power to stir this kind of yearning in her.

She fished out the cell phone designated for Paige only and dialed the number, then grinned when Paige jerked up one phone, growled, then hastily fumbled with another phone.

The wicked grin that swept across Paige's lips was even more enticing.

Mayson had never wanted to f.u.c.k a woman as bad as she wanted to f.u.c.k Paige right now. She wanted her fingers buried deep inside her, wanted every sound of her release inside her mouth. She wanted to swallow every moan and cry and whimper.

"Jesus, Paige, calm down. You can't even act normal anymore," Paige's friend scolded her with a friendly smile.

Paige shushed her and punched a key on the phone.

Mayson watched Paige transform from a scattered mess to a calm, collected woman as the call was connected.

"h.e.l.lo?" Paige's voice sounded so calm, so s.e.xy, opposed to the excited bounce she was doing in her chair.

"Can't get you off my mind," Mayson whispered.

Paige mentally swooned with Vinden's whisper. She fingered the candy as spirals of heat whipped along her nerves. Her insides clamped, and pain seared her inner thighs.

Holy h.e.l.l on earth. That exact reaction was what she craved. The uncontrollable fire. Her gut tightening. The tingles electrifying her body. She only wished she could describe it to Sam so she, too, would understand her desperation to be the key player in this game.

Sam gave her that melodramatic eye roll.

"Where are you?" Vinden whispered again.

Paige cuddled the phone to her ear and gave her the exact coordinates Vinden had given her the previous night.

Sam's phone rang and she stepped outside the ice cream shop.

"I want to hear you come, Fedora," Vinden whispered again, and torturous heat gathered in Paige's p.u.s.s.y.

Heat crawled across her cheeks as she searched for a bathroom sign. She walked calmly across the floor when she wanted to sprint, to gallop, in leaps and bounds.

Inside the cubicle, she slammed the door shut and turned the lock. "Make me come, Vinden."

Mayson closed and locked the office door, then leaned against it for support. She screwed her eyes shut with the sound of Paige's s.e.xy voice. Her nickname, Vinden, had never sounded so delicious rolling off someone's tongue.

Vinden Gudinna. The wind G.o.ddess.

It was an honored t.i.tle given to her by the people of a remote Swedish village after she erected an aquatic wind farm off the coast.

Had she known it would invoke that kind of reaction to hear it, she would have told every lover that was her name. Sure would have saved her the aggravation of watching them completely conform into greedy, gold-digging women when they heard the name Montgomery.

Would Paige turn out to be the same way? Was she a gold digger disguising herself as a person who actually hated money? Or despised people who had it? Mayson had seen all types. Ones who seemed to snub their nose at it, but were mentally buying Lamborghinis, mansions, and yachts. And then of course there were the ones who announced their greed immediately by requesting shopping trips and extravagant gifts. Those she let loose quickly. If they started out with greed, no telling where their sticky fingers would take them.

Finally, there were the ones who didn't care about the money, as Paige posed to be, one way or the other. The ones who wanted to do for others, who wanted to change the world with it. Not that she'd found a woman like that. She seemed to be a diamond in the rough. Rare and unreachable.

"What are you wearing, Fedora?" Mayson snagged open the b.u.t.ton of her pants and shoved her hand inside.

"Doesn't matter. Finish me, Vinden. I'm on fire."

Mayson smiled at Paige's directness, at her eagerness, and pushed her fingers inside herself. She was soaked. All from the sound of Paige's voice, from watching those fingers caress something as simple and sweet as a candy necklace.

What would Paige feel like clenching around her fingers, arching into her hand or against her mouth? Did she look for something specific with s.e.x? Was that why she couldn't find what she was looking for? Would Mayson be good enough for her? Would Vinden? Was she looking for something far greater than this game?

Paige flicked her c.l.i.t and pressed the back of her head against the wall. Vinden's whispers were too much. The sound of her heavy breathing disturbingly hot. This wasn't her first rodeo with phone s.e.x. But nothing like this. Those whispers were breaching every fiber of her body.

She wanted to crawl through the cyber connection and curl herself around the source of those whispers. Heat sparked and she flicked her c.l.i.t faster, desperate for release.

"I can hear you, Fedora," Vinden whispered again.

Paige flicked faster, her breathing hitched, and she moaned.

Vinden matched the sound, and Paige's knees weakened.

"What are you doing to yourself? Tell me, Vinden. I need to see," Paige begged her.

"f.u.c.king myself. My fingers are deep and wet."

Paige closed her eyes against the image. Another image sprang to mind. The image of a silhouetted stranger grinding against her, her p.u.s.s.y clenching tight around Paige's fingers, the way her head had dug into the pillow as she came.

"I want my fingers deep inside you, Fedora."

Paige pushed inside herself and hissed against the intensity. "They are. f.u.c.k me, Vinden, f.u.c.k me."

Vinden's haggard breaths rushed through the line, and Paige f.u.c.ked herself faster, harder, and deeper, shoving the palm of her hand against her c.l.i.t in desperate drives. "Talk to me. I'm so close. So...f.u.c.king...close."

Paige's o.r.g.a.s.m teetered as Vinden's rushed breathing flowed through the line.

"My mouth is open against yours. Your fingers are fisted in my hair. My fingers are in you. Deep inside you. You're so wet, clenching around me. You feel so good, Fedora."

Paige shoved her fingers deep, thrusting into the palm of her hand.

"Let me hear you come, Fedora. I need to hear the sound of you."

Paige's o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through her. "Oh fu...f.u.c.k! I'm coming. Jesus f.u.c.king Christ, I'm coming." Spasms of pleasure bounced and tore through her. She bit her bottom lip to quiet herself.

Vinden hissed. "I'm coming...with you, Fedora."

Paige slid down the wall, the sounds of Vinden coming whipping fire along her nerves. She couldn't hold herself upright any longer. Her p.u.s.s.y spasmed around her fingers as she knelt.

Vinden's breathing returned to normal and she whispered, "Eastside Theater. Tonight. One a.m. Be there, Fedora."

The line went dead as Paige tried to gather her strength. She'd never been so boneless. Well, not since a plane carried her away from New Orleans.

Holy h.e.l.l. Had that just happened?

She stood up, brushed down her skirt and blouse, then fluffed her hair out in the mirror. Her cheeks were suffused with a rosy glow. o.r.g.a.s.ms looked great for her complexion.

After pa.s.sing inspection, Paige walked out of the bathroom and down the short hallway on shaky legs. She kept her sights trained on the floor, putting one pump in front of the other, terrified her legs would give out and spill her to the floor.

Too focused on the operation of walking, Paige b.u.mped into someone. She reached out to steady herself. "I'm so sorr..." She looked up into Mayson Montgomery's face and took a step back.

A warm anger pushed alongside her already blistered nerves.

Mayson gave her that dimpled smile Paige was positive made hordes of women swoon right into her arms. Not to mention she probably need only say her last name and women no doubt raced to her. b.i.t.c.h. Rich b.i.t.c.h.

Paige grumbled and attempted to scoot around her. It was rude, she knew, but she didn't have a clue what she was supposed to say to someone like Mayson. Especially after their little meet and greet in her driveway, where the mere touch of Mayson had stirred heat.