Текст книги "In a Bad Way"

Автор книги: Karin Tabke

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“Your friends are in there making fun of you for running out like a scared little boy.  Drink up and go defend yourself.”

“I don’t need to defend myself.” He raised the glass to his lips. “Least of all to the guys in there.” As he tipped the glass to drink, the light from the flashing Surf’s Up neon sign shot like a laser beam through the bottom of the glass and in the blink of the flash, he caught sight of what looked like the remains of a roofie dissolving in the bottom. His cop antennae shot up. Why the conniving little—had she marked him from the get-go?  Sucker fool, he’d fallen right into her trap. Anger slithered through him. He should arrest her right here.  Damn if he was going to let this scam artist play him.

He lowered the glass and looked down at her, catching the desperate look in her big ocean colored eyes. Color had leeched from her previously rosy cheeks, and a thin sheen of perspiration gave her skin a sultry glow. She looked scared. No, scratch that; she looked terrified. What was she up to?

A war waged within. The cop part of him, the part that swore to protect and serve, was ready to haul her in, but the man part of him was intrigued. If he arrested her, he doubted he’d ever learn her motives. If he went along with her scam…

He sipped the water and as he did, he moved past her and pretended to chug the rest, but actually poured it into the trashcan in front of him. He turned with the empty glass and handed it to her. “Thanks.”

Her eyes widened and as she took the glass, she looked like she wanted to say something.  A warning? Having second thoughts about drugging him? Anger swept through him again. He was nothing more than a mark. His ego stung and it pissed him off that she’d gotten under his skin in there. He thought he’d gotten under hers, too. He should arrest her.

Sweeping her with a long disapproving look, he would have thought knowing what he knew combined with her career choice would temper his physical reaction to her.  That wasn’t the case.  The ache in his groin hadn’t waned. The opposite occurred.  His desire for her had become painful. “Why do you like flashing your tits for strangers?”

“Why are you such an ass?” She threw back.

He smirked. “You disappoint me.”

Her brows rose. “You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not. Even based on our brief acquaintance, I think you’re better than what you do inside the club.”

She shrugged, the edge of the wrap falling off a bare shoulder. His dick flared.

“I don’t have a problem with my chosen profession,” she said. “I’m not being forced to work here, I chose to. So take your snobby cop attitude and go home.”

Flynn didn’t let it go. “You’re not like them. There’s something different about you. Stay here long enough and you’ll end up like every other stripper in the Tenderloin.”

She cocked her head to the side and graced him with a brilliant smile. “You’re right, I’m not like the rest of them, but you’re wrong about the second part of your statement. Because I’m not like them, I won’t become one of them.”  She nudged him in the chest with her shoulder.  “But thanks for looking out for me.”

What a paradox. One minute she was telling him to hit the road and the next she was all smiles and flirty. He moved closer. Her scent engulfed him. Damn if he didn’t want to lay her down and—he stopped thinking about what he wanted to do.

Flynn had never minced words when it came to what he wanted. He wasn’t about to start now. Especially when he wanted the little girl standing in front of him in a bad way. Never mind he should arrest her for trying to drug him. His dick wanted what it wanted. “I want to fuck you six ways to sundown, Wild Style, and that doesn’t make me happy.”

Her lips parted, exposing her white teeth. The tip of her pink tongue touched the bow of her top lip. “Not happy about it because you’re a by-the-book cop and I’m a stripper who showed her tits to your friends in there? Or not happy about it because you know I won’t let you fuck me six ways to sundown? ”

Flynn growled and pushed her against the side of the building. Pulling his hands off her because she felt too good and he might do something stupid, he placed his hands on the wall, palms flattened on either side of her head, and leaned into her. “Because the guys I work with have seen your tits and I haven’t.”

Without missing a beat, she dropped the pink wrap down around her elbows and stood like Venus in the surf before him, her fucking luscious tits sitting way up high, the pink nipples hard, begging for his lips to stroke them. Breath whooshed from his chest as if he’d been hit.  Setting his jaw, he fisted his hands against the concrete, fighting the painful urge to ravish them.

Catching his gaze, she raised her chin defiantly. “Are you still not happy?”

Yeah, he was unhappy all right. More like pissed off. He yanked up the wrap and covered her; as he did, his hands swept the bottom swell of her breasts. She gasped, and he felt the thud of her heartbeat against his palm. His thumb slowly stroked a pebble-hard nipple.

“Don’t mess with me, tiny dancer, you’ll regret it,” he warned.

“How?” she breathed.

“I’ll split you apart and make you beg for more.” He dropped his lips to the base of her throat and inhaled her sweet scent. “And I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

Her warm breasts heaved against his hands.  “Is that how you court a lady?”

“You’re not a lady and I don’t court.”

“If you don’t court, what do you do?”

“I fuck.”

“Then just fuck me.”

Flynn stood for a long hard moment. He wanted to fuck her, was going to fuck her, he decided, and in doing so find out why she’d drugged him.

He grabbed her wrists and dragged her behind him into the club. “Get whatever it is you need to get, and let’s get out of here.” Flynn watched her walk uncertainly from him. He made straight for the private room and pulled Simon aside.

“Look, I don’t want to be a buzz kill, but that little number just tried to slip me something. I’m going to play it off.”

“What the hell?” Simon said, shocked.

“I don’t know if she was put up to it or is acting on her own.” Flynn dug out his wallet and handed Simon a wad of bills.  “If you need more for the rounds, I’m good for it.”

Simon took the cash and put it in his jeans pocket. “Do me a solid when you get out of here, Simon. Run this place and see who owns it and if there’s any dirt. Text me what you come up with and I’ll touch base in the morning.”

“Keep your phone on so I can find you if I need you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Flynn strode from the room to the front of the club to find Wild Style waiting by the door.  As he approached, he swayed as if the effects of the drug were kicking in.

Izzy’s heart beat like a drum as she watched the cop sway through the crowd. What had she done? What if he had a bad reaction? She shouldn’t have done this.  There were other ways to get the information she needed.  Weren’t there?

“C’mon on, sweet thing, let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” he slurred.

He dropped his arm around her shoulder and, leaning heavily on her, walked outside.

“Hey, look,” she said. “I think you should go back inside with your friends.”

“Cabby!” he yelled.

One magically appeared. “C’mon, tiny dancer,” he said, pulling her with him as he stepped with an unsteady gait.

“No, really. Let’s go back.”

He yanked open the door, pushed her in, then followed, shutting the door behind them. Izzy’s heart pounded. She didn’t know what to do! Even if she wanted to go through with this, she had no plan of action.

“Where to?” the cabby asked.

“Um—I ah.” She looked at her mark and said, “A hotel?” She hoped he said no because she didn’t have money for a room.

“Your pace,” he said, his voice lower, his pronunciation off.

Izzy gulped. Hard. She couldn’t believe she was actually thinking of going through with this! Good lord, she had gotten in way over her head. Her plan was simply to work as a cocktail waitress, get to know the people in the club, and pump them for information, not stripping and performing lap dances or making a sex video with a cop! For a minute she couldn’t breathe.

“C’mon, Wild,” the cop mumbled. “I’m gonna…pass out before, we can…”

Izzy steeled her resolve. This wasn’t for her, she reminded herself. He was on the verge of passing out, which would make what she had to do easy and less dangerous.

Okay, decision made, and at her place she’d feel less like a criminal. Right? Maybe? Her roommate was gone for a few days. The little bungalow they shared was across the bridge in Oakland, not too far, but still, if the cop knew where she lived…

He fumbled with her purse and took her wallet out, then her license. Squinting, he gave the driver her address and handed her the wallet.

She prayed that by the time they got to her place, he’d be well on his way to passing out.  Dear lord, please make it completely kick in soon. What if it did, but didn’t last long enough for her to do what she needed to do? Panic seized her.

As the cab sped across the Bay Bridge, she glanced over at the cop and was relieved to see him slumped back into the seat.

Fifteen minutes later she was helping him up the steps to the little bungalow she shared with Charlie, her college friend who spent more time at his boyfriend’s house in Santa Cruz than he did here. Izzy didn’t mind; Charlie’s parents paid his half of the rent and utilities on time and they had furnished the place nicely.

As they entered the house, she wasn’t sure where to go. The living room or her bedroom?  It was going to be a sex video, right? She decided on the bedroom for effect.

He was big and the drug was making him more dependent on her to move him. Finally she maneuvered him down the short hallway to her room and pushed him back onto her full-size bed, thankful she had washed her sheets that morning. Since he thought so little of women in her profession, if he weren’t’ drugged, he would appreciate the little things.  Like clean sheets. She stood staring down at his big frame. Damn he was a lot of man. He took up all of the space.

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice slurred.

“We’re at my house. Just relax and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Kay,” he mumbled.

She got to work quickly. Taking her cell phone from her purse, she propped it up against the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

Nervously she decided to just strip him down to his birthday suit and make it appear she was having her way with him. What purpose the video would serve wasn’t her concern. It wasn’t like he was married. Unless he lied. Most guys that frequented the club took off their wedding rings and lied about it. Like any of the girls cared about that. All they cared about was their relationship with those George Washingtons. So if he was single, and if a video surfaced of this hot cop having sex with a stripper, what harm would it do him?

Would his department fire him? She wrestled his wallet from his back pocket and when she opened it and saw the FBI shield, she choked. Special Agent Flynn A. Ryker.

Holy shit, a fed?  

A nervous titter ran through her. What she was about to embark on could get her into a lot of trouble. If she were arrested, she would be barred from taking the BAR exam.

So be it. She would do something else, she told herself, because if Jasmyn was hurt, being held hostage, or, worse, kissing a law degree good-bye was a small price to pay.

Izzy had to put her trust in Andre that he would set up the meeting with Boris. No, actually she didn’t have to trust him, she decided. Because once she had the video, she held all the cards. She would insist on meeting Boris face-to-face. It would put her in control and be the only way Izzy would know the truth.

“Okay, Special Agent Flynn A. Ryker, I’m going to do things to you that I’ve never done to a man before. Even passed out, you’re going to love it.” What those things were, were yet to be determined, and whatever they were, she needed to video the entire encounter while keeping her face hidden.

Chapter Four

The first thing Izzy did was take off his shoes. “Damn you have big feet. I wonder if that means you have other big things?” She giggled despite the wrongness of what she was doing. She left his socks on and unbuttoned his fitted shirt. It was soft cotton and she liked the feel of it. As she pushed the fabric away from his chest she caught her breath. The hard planes of his muscles beneath her palms were one thing, but seeing what he had under the shirt was making her mouth water. Her female parts clenched. He worked out. Pressing her palms to his waist, she slowly slid them along his warm skin.

“Aren’t you a hotty?” she said. She pressed her lips to a flat nipple. It hardened beneath her touch. “Mmm, and a tasty one.” Sitting back, she traced her fingertips down his belly along his happy trail to the top of his black trousers. By the texture and cut of the fabric, she knew they were expensive. Everything about him screamed expensive. “I bet you’re hung like a stallion.  No doubt it’s why you’re so damn cocky.” She snorted at the double entendre.  “Too bad guys like you think you’re God’s gift to the world.”

Slowly she pulled the zipper down, then yanked his pants and underwear off in one fell swoop.  “Holy hell,” she gulped. “That is the biggest penis I have ever seen.”  It was thick and looked like it was ready to rock and roll. “Not that I’ve seen many.” She knew she was babbling, she did that when she was nervous, but talking to him made her feel less like she was preying on him and more like it was consensual. Technically it was. He was here because he wanted to have sex with her. He’d made that clear before the drug hit him. That bit of reason soothed her guilty conscience a little.

Guilty conscience aside, Izzy’s curiosity got the better of her. She knew what she beheld was what most girls dreamed of, and she wasn’t going to let a little modesty keep her from finding out how it felt. Carefully she wrapped her hand around his burgeoning shaft. His hips jerked against her as a low moan emanated from his chest. It pulsed like a living beast in her hand. Shocked by the heat and softness of his skin, she recoiled. He was totally aroused. What if he woke up and decided he wanted to take a roll? What then?

“I think a little restraint is in order.” She hurried from the bed to the bathroom, took the belt from her robe hanging on the door, and went back to the bed.

Pulling his heavy arms over his head, she wrapped the belt around his wrists and as she tied the belt to her headboard, she said, “For the record, because I’m not a 'hit it and quit it’ kind of girl, I want you to know I wasn’t faking the attraction part of what happened between us at the club. I’ve never been hit like that before. I had no idea I could want a man like I want you. Not because I’m being forced to do this. But for myself.” Once he was secured, she traced a fingertip along his full bottom lip. “I bet you’re a good kisser.” She swept her lips across his, liking the firm softness of them. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

“I’m really sorry about this. Okay actually, I’m not, I’m rather enjoying this. I can touch you and you can’t taunt me. If I wanted to I could climb on top of you and have my way with you right now and you’d never be the wiser. But I think that’s against the law. Not that I’m not breaking the law right now. Am I? I mean I did drug you, but you said before I did that you wanted to fuck me six ways to sundown. Or was that after you drank the water?  I think after, damn it. You did show intent earlier, and that would hold up in court. Not sure about the tying you up part, though. Definitely would do some time for the video I’m about to make.”

Izzy sat back after she had him securely tied. Her conscience eating at her. This was very, very, very wrong. “I am sorry, but I don’t know what else to do!” She sat on the edge of the bed fighting back tears. She was so torn. Jasmyn could be dying somewhere and this was her only chance of finding her.

“Special Agent Flynn Ryker, I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you don’t get into too much trouble over this, but a girl’s gotta do what girl’s gotta do.”

Hovering over his face, she stared at him for a long moment. He was damn good looking. Beautiful even. Every angle of his face was perfect. From his dark brows, long lashes, straight nose and full lips to his square chin, he was male perfection personified. Not a scar or scratch on him. He could have walked out of a GQ photo shoot.

He was tall, muscled, with a spectacular physique. Longingly she looked down his sculpted abs to his very much aroused penis. What would he feel like inside her? If he were conscious, would he be gentle or impatient for her? They had had an immediate chemical reaction to each other. A first for her. Izzy had never been in denial about her looks. While she wasn’t a classic beauty like her sister, she had an interesting face and great skin. She was petite, only five foot three, but she had lots of curves and worked hard to keep them in check.

“Okay, Slick, let’s get this show on the road.”

He moaned and as he did, pulled free of the belt and reached out a hand to her, catching the side of her breast. Izzy stifled a sharp gasp of pleasure. His hand dropped to her thigh, the contact singing her skin. “Tiny dancer,” he whispered, “where you going?”

Izzy bit her bottom lip. Was he waking up? Nervous frissons prickled along her spine.

Bending over him, she pushed up an eyelid. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

Hmm, she hadn’t begun to video, and she had already decided she’d mute it, so, maybe… “Is it okay if I have my way with you?”

His hand slid along her thigh to her waist. When she held her breath, fighting the deliciousness that followed in the wake of his touch, the bottom swell of her breast touched his hand. His fingers twitched, then splayed, cupping her. “Ah, geez, that feels good.” Too good.  She slid off the bed and stood staring down at him. Losing control was not an option. Neither was being recognized. If the cops got a hold of this, her signature blue wig would give her away.

Yanking the spiky blue wig off her head, and slipping out of the long-sleeved button-down shirt she had thrown over her bikini, Izzy hurried into the bathroom, took off the bikini, pulled her fake eyelashes off, and washed her face. She slipped on a little pink camisole, and decided on a long rainbow-colored wig that, placed at the right angle, would hide her face.

Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath, she paused, then exhaled and with purpose, strode back into the bedroom.

He was snoring.  Good. Carefully turning his head to face the cell phone, she tapped the record icon. Making sure to keep her head turned to the right so as not to be identified, Izzy gingerly straddled him. Just as she eased her body down skin to skin, his penis surged against the inside of her thigh.

“Oh, boy, okay, that’s crazy scary and amazing.”

She had never been so close to a man’s penis. She wasn’t wearing panties. All he had to do was thrust into her and that would end her life as a virgin. Anxious desire swept through her.  If she were going to lose it, what better specimen to lose it to than this one? She let out a long breath and retied the belt around his wrists.  Tighter this time. She was up shit’s creek if he woke up.

“Hey, baby,” she said huskily, “Come to momma.” In answer, his penis surged against her thigh again.

Gasping, she looked up at his face to find his eyes closed. Sweeping the long hair of her wig to the left side of her face, masking her identity, Izzy pressed her lips to his and melted a little. They were so warm and surprisingly soft. Sliding her hands up his chest, she skimmed her tongue along the seam of his lips and when they gave way, she kissed him deeply. His body tightened beneath her, and suddenly she lost herself in the kiss.

He tasted good. Felt good. Digging her fingers into his hair, she angled his head so that she could get deeper into his mouth. Ravenously, she kissed him. Hungry for him in a way that shocked her. Even in his drugged state, his body reacted to her. It boosted her confidence. Her hips slowly undulated against his waist, and she realized she was slick. All she had to do was slide down just a few inches and he would be inside of her.

Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly when his hips jerked against her. “God almighty, you feel good,” she whispered. Reaching behind her, Izzy grasped his thighs, digging her fingers into him. Her body tensed as she held herself still, wanting to go further, but not daring to. If she did, she’d ride him off into the sunset. He felt that good and she was worked up that much.

“I can’t believe how hot I am for you right now and I don’t even know you.” She sat back and stared smugly at him. “Does that make me bad?” She leaned forward and kissed his full lips, then traced her tongue along his bottom lip around to his top lip. “I don’t care. I want you in a very bad way.”  She licked his pulsing jugular and ran her fingertips along the hard muscles of his arms. “I like your arms. Strong. I bet I’d feel real safe if you wrapped them around me.” Reaching up to his hands, she entwined her fingers through his. As she did, her breasts brushed against his face. A low moan escaped his mouth.

“I bet you like your women white and uptight.” She slid down him, her folds slickening his penis from head to root. “Oh, geez, that’s amazing,” she breathed, holding her body still against him, afraid of what she wanted so badly to do to him.

Long minutes passed as she wrangled her body back into compliance. “A guy like you looks at a girl like me for one thing.” She rotated her hips along the head of him. Couldn’t help it. He was so warm and thick and rigid and oh dear God, she was going to be in so much trouble if she went there. His penis jerked against her as his body tightened beneath her. A thin sheen of perspiration erupted between them.

“Oh, you want me, don’t you?” She moved low against his belly, keeping the head of his penis a safe distance from her receptive opening. “I want you, too. I want you to give me the mother of all orgasms.” She lowered her lips to his ear and confessed. “I’ve never had one before. Not with a man.” She giggled. “Or a woman. Just my toys.”  She sucked his earlobe. “I bet you aren’t selfish either.” She moved hotly against him, her breath deepening. “Yeah, I bet you could make me scream and beg like a baby for a bottle.” Her fingernails dug into his thick bicep as her hips moved faster and harder against his belly. She noticed the way his arms tightened and his own breathing had become shorter, and shallower. “I’m so turned on right now that if you rolled me over and took me, I’d let you.” She kissed him. His lips opened for her to plunder and his body responded as if he were awake.

Her body stilled. What she was doing was so wrong. Groaning with frustration, she broke free of his lips and pressed her forehead to his chest.

“I want to for all the right reasons, but can’t for the wrong ones.”

His heart beat chaotically against her cheek. For several long minutes she lay still against his warm, strong body, reveling in the power of him. Fantasizing about what it would be like to have a man like this bend over backward to please her. She sighed and lifted her head and stared at him. “I’m sorry, Prince Charming, but this is the end of the road.”

Leaning up, she slid her hands along his cheeks and kissed him one last time. His body surged as his lips took control of hers. Izzy gasped and pulled away but his lips chased hers, catching them. Oh, God, no, he was awake.

“Untie me.”  His voice was as clear and crisp, not a hint of a drug induced slur.

Izzy gasped pushing off him. “Have you been conscious all this time?”

His blue eyes sparked fire. “Untie me.”

She scooted back and gasped when the head of his penis penetrated her.  “Oh, God,” she gulped, afraid to move.  Another few inches, it would be official: Her cherry would be history.

He yanked his arms hard, snapping the wooden slat of her headboard he was tied to. Roping her in his arms, he swung her around and before she knew it, she found herself spread-eagle beneath him.

His eyes flared. His hard body pulsed with unleashed passion above her. “You want to make a video?” he demanded, pressing his hips against hers. “Let’s make one.”

“No! I stopped. I wasn’t really going to! Please.”

His fingers worked beneath her, as he wrestled the terry cloth belt from around his wrists while keeping her pinned down with his chest. Once free of the belt, he tossed it to the floor and turned heated eyes back on her. “Tell me why you drugged me,” he demanded, enraged.

Terrified of the consequences of telling him the truth and terrified of what he was going to do to her because of what she’d done, she tensed, preparing for the worst even as she said, “I can’t.”

His face contorted furiously. “I swear to God if you don’t come clean with me, I’m going to tie you up and make you the star of your video.”

Pushing hard against him, she tried to wriggle out from under him. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, I just—I had no choice!”

“You have a choice now: Tell me the truth or I call Oakland PD and you’ll spend the next ten years in prison.”

Izzy bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. Hot tears stung her eyes. She was in deep shit. “If I tell you, they’ll hurt me.”

“Who?”

“The people who made me do it.”

Some of the fury ebbed from his eyes. “I won’t let that happen.”

Her stomach churned with uncertainty. “My sister’s missing. I think they know where she is.  Andre the floor manager told me to make a video of you and me—doing it. If I did he’d pay me, but I was going to use the video to force Boris the club owner to tell me what happened to my sister.”

“What’s her name?”

“She went by Jasmyn at the club, but her real name is Alexandra,” Izzy whispered. “Chastain.”

His eyes narrowed as he dug through his memory banks. Then widened as realization dawned. “Senator Chastain’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“If she was missing, he would have reported it.  Every news station in the country would be running the story. Try again, this time be more original.”

“I swear to you, it’s the truth!”

He reached over and grabbed his cell phone from his trouser pocket and still holding her down, he asked it, “Hey, Siri, how many daughters does Senator Chastain have?”

Siri responded. “One daughter, Alexandra Michelle Chastain.”

He set the phone down next to hers on the nightstand and turned back to her.  “Nice try.”

Izzy swallowed hard and knew if she were going to get him even halfway on her side, she would have to tell him what she had never told another living soul. “I’m our father’s dirty little secret.”

His eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”

“I can’t, but I swear to you, it’s true,” she cried.  “It’s a long story, but the truth is our father, who claims he didn’t know he was my father, kicked me and my mother out when his wife figured it out. I was eleven. I lost contact with my sister until she called me out of the blue a few months ago.  Said she was in trouble and needed my help.”

Izzy squeezed her eyes shut.  For so many reasons, she’d told Alex to call someone who cared. But when Izzy’s guilty conscious got the better of her, it was too late; Alex had disappeared.

“You’re the senator’s bastard?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, and I wish I wasn’t.”

Flynn’s hands loosened on hers. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes flashed open. “I don’t need your pity. I just need to know what happened to my sister. She was working at the Surf’s Up and disappeared over three months ago without a trace. No one filed a missing persons report. She didn’t just up and walk away. She was removed. I want to know where she was removed to and get her back.”

“And you think the club owner, this Boris, knows where she is?”

“Boris is a thug. He’s got to know something.  Girls have been disappearing and it’s not turnover.”

She watched him digest that information. Was he starting to believe her?

“So Boris wanted a video of you compromising a cop so that he could use it to blackmail me for—what?”

“Andre made the request on Boris’s behalf. I don’t know what he was going to use it for; I just know I was getting my meeting with Boris if I procured the video.”

“Are you so naïve as to believe that once you gave him the video you wouldn’t end up in a dumpster or perhaps joining your sister?”

Izzy’s heart pounded. Andre had said the last girl to make a video retired.  Did that mean permanently? “Do you think she’s dead?”

Flynn smoothed her bangs from her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“You’re a fed, can’t you find out?”

Flynn picked up his phone again and began to text.

“Who are you texting at one o’clock in the morning?” she asked.

Focused on what he was doing, he said, “The Bureau never sleeps.” A minute later he was done and set his phone down on the nightstand.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Izzy asked. “How will I get the information I need?” She was desperate. If she showed up without a video, she had no idea what would happen to her. Damn if she was going to quit now. She’d come too far to stop.

Flynn’s full lips pulled into a tight smile, but his eyes blazed with desire.  “I guess there’s one way to find out.”

“Find out what?”

“What Boris was going to blackmail me for. He must be in deep if he’s willing to blackmail cops.”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean actually make a video?”

“You catch on quick.”

“You aren’t serious!”

His dick flexed against her thigh. Her body responded by moving beneath him. He smiled when she gasped in surprise.

“As a heart attack.” He traced a fingertip along the line of her jaw to her bottom lip. “If I’m going to be blackmailed by a sex video, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have sex with than you.” He pulled the wig off her head and smiled at her short pink-tipped blond hair. He ran his fingers through it. “And, Wild?”

“What?” she breathed.

“If you’re lying to me about any of this? I’m going to hook you up so fast it will make that pretty little head of yours spin.”