Chapter 2

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."