Mr. Suit by Nigel Bird Page B

insides of his thighs. They were hard. All muscle. Made
her think she might actually enjoy a little action. It had been so long since
she’d had a man that the prospect of rubbing against his acne-scarred skin
didn’t seem as awful as it sometimes did.
    “If
the money turned up, maybe things would be different,” he said.
    It
was a complication she’d not considered.
    “He
can’t remember a thing.” She pulled her foot back a little. Rested it on his
knee. “It might have something with you shooting him in the head.” Which
reminded her why she hated the guy in front of her as much as she did. An urge
to kick him hard in the balls rose and she had to screw up her toes to make
sure her feet stayed where they were.
    Mr
Suit dropped the toothpick onto his plate and put his right hand under the
table. Took hold of Liza’s foot and rubbed her instep with his thumb. He had
the touch, she’d give him that. Sent a few volts through her stomach.
    “It
was an accident for Christ’s sake.” He held up his left hand like he wanted to
surrender. “A bloody accident. When are you going to get that through your
thick skull?”
    “I
always said Archie had a thick skull.” And she had. “Until you proved
otherwise.”
    Sensing
she was getting closer to the answer she wanted, she pushed her foot back
between Mr Suit’s thighs. A little further this time. Enjoyed watching
confusion conquer his eyes. Pushed far enough to feel the bulge of his thrill.
    “Let’s
say you’re right. That he won’t remember where he put my money. And say that I
arrange to...” He tilted his head and brought it back again when he’d found the
words he needed. “...put your husband out of his misery. What’s my compensation?”
    She’d
played enough footsie. Pulled her leg back and slipped her shoe back on. “A
clear conscience for one.” That should have been enough, but she wasn’t going
to take the chance. “No more hospital bills for another.” Plus the icing on the
cake. “And I’d be a free woman. Free to do whatever I please.” Not that she
needed to tell him what that might actually be.
    A
big smile spread across his face. Showed off his wrinkles and the shine of his
crooked teeth. “Then I’ll make sure it’s done.”
    Liza
pushed her chair back to give herself room to stand. “Thanks Suits. Just one
more thing. I don’t want to know when you’re going to kill him, who’s going to
do it or how. Understand?”
    “Capische.”
    She
stood. The way he rolled his voice around Italian words turned her on something
chronic. Her knees buckled ever-so-slightly, though she didn’t think Suits had
noticed. She straightened her skirt casually as if nothing had happened.
    Liza
winked at Suits and decided to go and buy herself a summer dress to celebrate.

Chapter 3
    T wo
weeks since the meeting with Mr Suit and there hadn’t been an angel of mercy
within a mile of the place.
    Not
that things had stayed the same.
    Ever
since her little flirt with Suits, something had been stirring within.
Something she hadn’t felt for years.
    Liza’s
sex life had fizzled way before Archie’s accident. She’d put up with a weekly
romp, but left to her own devices she’d rather have spent the time jogging or
down at the gym.
    She
blamed it on having kids so young. All three of them by the time she was
twenty-one. And if it hadn’t been for Jenny’s miscarriage, she’d have been a
grandma already in spite of having a mere forty-two years on the clock.
    At
first, Liza’s newly-born desire came like scratches she could easily ignore,
but she soon needed to pay them some attention and took matters into her own
hands for the first time in the shower on Easter Monday, finding a different
kind of resurrection. It had been fun.
    Masturbation,
she decided, was a lot like riding a bike only without the feet or the pedals;
whatever, she was certainly enjoying being back in the saddle.
    It
came as no surprise to her when she found herself admiring