Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
The dirty brown sedan blended into the night and the neighborhood. He pulled to the curb and killed the lights, far enough away so nobody would notice him, yet close enough to see his target.
The bitch was standing on the corner, not quite how he remembered her but just where his informant had said she would be. He’d never realized what a hot body the woman had. Not that it mattered. Nothing was going to distract him from his plans.
He felt the rage build as it did every time he thought of her. The anger had eaten at him for years. And now, to see her again, to be so close… She would pay for what she’d done.
Extracting his revenge now wasn’t possible. The danger was too great. But he’d have her trapped soon. The best part of all this was that she didn’t even know it was coming. Oh, how sweet!
Until he served up his form of justice he didn’t intend to let that female pig out of his sight. He might miss the perfect opportunity if he did. And he needed to take care of her fast, before she found out he was back and took extra precautions.
He blew into his fisted hands to warm the chilled skin and delicious thoughts flowed through his brain. Maybe he’d even have a little torturous fun with the whore before he ended her pathetic life. She deserved to suffer after all she put him through.
“Yeah, her pussy is mine.” His laughter echoed inside the car. I’m coming for you, baby.
Renee’s breath formed a small cloud of fog each time she exhaled. The chill in the air had grown with the lateness of the hour and robbed her of much needed body heat. She kept moving, strolling down the sidewalk, but the motion didn’t generate any warmth.
She was tired, achy and bored. A breeze stirred her long hair, lifting the strands away from her face. She turned so that the coldness blew against her back. What a crappy way to make a living. She almost felt sorry for the working girls doomed to walk such streets due to choice or circumstance.
Her gaze skittered over her surroundings. The urban area, illuminated only by the occasional lamppost and cluttered with trash, had taken on an eerie feel. Not even the moon was out tonight.
Shops had long since closed. A dog howled in the distance. Late-night traffic from the highway several blocks away reached her ears. Other than a drunk passed out in the alley, she appeared completely alone. So much for a target-rich environment. It didn’t look to her like any Johns were out tonight.
She tugged on her red leather mini-skirt. “Why would any sane woman wear something this short?” she whispered. At least the garment covered the tops of her stockings. That was something. A draft rushed up her thighs and made her shiver. Dang. She hated the cold. She should have worn pantyhose.
Black clouds drifted across the sky, reminding her of the horror movie she’d watched last night about the undead. Goosebumps rose on her skin. From the cold or thoughts of zombies, she wasn’t sure. She felt like a plucked turkey, all dimpled and exposed out here. Ready to be served up to any psycho who might come along.
She crossed her arms over her chest to hold in what body heat she could. The sleeveless black silk top she wore was laced closed in the front, but still barely covered her tiny bra and straining-to-be-freed breasts. She’d wanted to wear a jacket. The higher-ups wouldn’t allow it. They’d been quite clear. Don’t cover the assets. Fine. She’d like to see one of them out here parading around in a jock strap three sizes too small, a pair of toe-pinching street shoes and nothing else but a come-get-me grimace.
When she turned the corner, she tripped on a defect in the concrete and almost toppled headfirst off the curb. Damn heels! Not only were they uncomfortable, they were butt-ugly in her opinion. Multiple neon colors with 3-inch spikes that glowed in the dark. Blech!
She peered down the dark street. Not a car in sight, other than a couple of abandoned pieces of crap against the curb. And no foot traffic. Even so, she felt watched, and with good cause. She knew the backup police officers were close in the surveillance van listening to her breathe. And probably video taping everything too, from one of the nearby side streets.
The new, experimental microphone attached to her bra was sensitive enough to pick up a whisper from several feet away. Or so they’d told her. She’d better not belch, pass wind or do anything else embarrassing. She’d never hear the end of it.
If she’d had her choice, she would be investigating the Mariani drug case right now, but the department used her too often for undercover work as a streetwalker. That’s what she got for having a ‘killer rack and ass,’ to quote her Captain. If Jansen were anything other than a fifty-eight-year-old hard-as-crust grandmother, Renee would have pitched a fit about the comment. As it was, she simply felt annoyed.
From her experience, she really doubted it mattered that much what she looked like. Men were always trolling the streets for sex. She’d seen plenty of flat chests and pancake butts picked up over the years. Okay, that was catty. But she was in a mood. The department needed to utilize her investigative talents better than this.
A pair of approaching headlights caught her attention, and she sashayed toward the street. Finally, some action. She hoped. Nobody had propositioned her all night.
The car slowed as it drew near. “Here we go,” she whispered, flipping her auburn hair off her shoulder. She’d recently died it from plain brown to auburn and whenever she caught sight of a reddish strand, she remembered the screech of horror she’d let fly when the color had turned out purple on the first day. Thankfully, the purple turned to reddish-brown; otherwise she seriously would have considered shaving her head. Maybe that would have convinced the department to end my hooker duty, she thought with a smile. She stuck out her chest to give the driver a good view of her barely-covered tits and stepped up to the car door when the vehicle eased to a stop.
A man around her own age -- late twenty-something -- with chestnut brown hair rolled down the driver’s-side window.
She leaned forward to reel him in. “Hey, baby! You lookin’ for a date?”
“That depends. How much do you charge to suck dick?”
Renee’s mouth fell open in disbelief. She quickly gathered her composure, snapped ramrod straight and stepped back. “Sam Hooper. What the hell are you doing out here?”
The detective smiled up at her, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “You looked a little lonely.”
“You’re going to blow my cover.” Her heart pounding, she glanced up and down the street. Still deserted. So no harm, she supposed. She let herself relax. His timing left something to be desired. He’d been trying to get her on a date for months. She’d known him for a while now and liked him a lot. She even considered him a friend. He was funny and sexy as hell, but she never dated colleagues. And especially not those she outranked. She’d been quite clear with him about that right from the beginning. It was just too messy when things didn’t work out.
His gaze flickered over her breasts and then his eyes met hers. “Be nice now. The boys sent me out to rescue you. Grady’s calling it a night. This area is dead. Hop in. I’ll take you home.”
“Oh, okay.” She instantly felt better. He wasn’t trying to put the make on her, despite his obvious ogle. And home had such a great sound to it about now. “Thanks. These heels are killing me. Besides, I’m freezing.” She hobbled around to the other side of the car and slid into the passenger seat. “I swear, I am never wearing high heels again.” She slipped off the shoes. “Ah…”
“Too bad.” Sam smiled. “They make your legs look a mile long. By the way, nice catch back there when you almost landed in the gutter.”
His deep, sensual laughter filled the compact. “You want an RSVP on that?”
“Just keep your eyes on the road, detective,” she warned, tugging at her skirt, which had ridden way too high on her thighs. “And turn up the heat.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pushed on the controls and gunned the engine. “Need help getting out of the mic?”
“You wish. I can handle it. I’m an expert with these things by now.” She flipped off the sound control. “I’ll take care of it when I get home, and I’ll turn in the contraption tomorrow.”
“Dang!” He snapped his fingers. “Another missed chance to cop a feel and feel a cop.”
“That is so old.” Even so, she chuckled. Exhaustion had obviously stolen her better sense.
“You’re just jaded.”
“Probably.” She glanced around the interior of the car and frowned. “What is this thing you’re driving? It looks like some bloated bug and it’s about as small.” She crinkled her nose. “And it smells.”
“Yeah, I know. Some perp threw up in the back. I wrecked my other car. Now the department has me in this piece of crap. It’s only temporary. I hope.” He briefly glanced at her, then returned his eyes to the road. “The hair’s looking good.”
“Now that the purple’s turned red, I like it.”
“Sexy. Did you dye your pussy hair, too? Hubba, hubba.”
“Sam!” She punched him in the arm…hard.
“I can’t believe you asked that!”
He chuckled, then shrugged. “Just curious.”
Within fifteen minutes, they arrived at her apartment building. Sam pulled into the barely-lit parking lot and found an empty spot close to her landing. He idled the engine. “So you’re on tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow night. You?”
“Two days off.”
She turned sideways to face him. “Two days! How did you manage that? I haven’t had a day off in forever.” Renee sighed, wishing she could take two weeks off and do nothing but sleep, watch television and binge on junk food. “I’m so tight that I don’t think my muscles will ever fully relax again. I could use some down time.” She sat flat against the seat and undid the seatbelt restraining her.
Sam removed his seatbelt, too. “I got lucky, I guess.” He reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. “You are tight.”
She tipped her head forward, and a moan escaped her before she could stop it. “Mmm. That feels good. Do you do feet, too?”
“I do all body parts.”
“Figures.” She slowly felt her body relaxing from the pressure of his fingers and the warmth the heater was spewing into the car. “How about next time you be the hooker, and I’ll sit in the van?”
Sam chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t think I’d reel ‘em in like you do.”
She smiled, her eyes meeting his. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re pretty hunky.”
“Hunky, huh?” A wide grin crossed his face, and he puffed out his chest. “You think so?”
“Don’t get a big head.”
“Too late. Both are expanding rapidly.”
She glanced down at his lap and didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. She didn’t figure he’d appreciate laughter. But she wasn’t offended either. “I should report you, you know. I’m sure getting a hard-on while speaking with a superior must break at least one rule.”
“Probably, but you won’t report me. We’ve known each other too long.”
“Only three years, and mostly just in passing, until the last few months of working cases together. You’re a new friend at best.”
“Right,” he said, drawing out the word and giving her a wink.
She felt like sticking her tongue out at him, but took the adult route and shrugged instead. She’d better keep the topic strictly on business. “I suppose you couldn’t have done any worse tonight than I did.”
“We got a bad tip about the area. It’s not your fault. You’re majorly hot and any guy would kill for a lay with you.”
A shiver ran down her spine, and not from the cold. What was the saying? Like a ghost just walked over my grave. “Thanks. I think.” Still, she felt better about the night and the way things went down. She wasn’t the insecure type, but it was nice to hear she hadn’t lost her appeal. As long as the right guy was saying so. Not that she thought of Sam as the right guy or anything. Sure, he was strong, sexy, smart and would one day be a major player in the department, but… “I need to go.”
“Sure.” He pulled his hand away.
“I appreciate the impromptu massage. Thanks.” She leaned over to peck him on the cheek in a friendly gesture of gratitude, an action she’d done more than once in the recent past. Only when they were alone, of course.
She vaguely remembered the first time was a couple of months ago when she’d gotten drunk. After a particularly bad day, she’d decided the hell with everything and tossed back one too many shots of tequila at a local bar. Then she’d called him up to drive her home. She’d given him a ‘thank you’ peck when he’d deposited her inside her living room. He hadn’t even tried to take advantage in her inebriated state. She respected the guy for that, and she’d thought of him as a friend ever since.
This time, he turned his head and her lips touched his. She jerked back at the electric contact, which she felt all the way to her toes. “I -- I’m sorry.”
“Really?” He cocked his head. “That’s too bad.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “Because I’m not.”
“Sam, you know how I feel about moving beyond what we already have.”
“Yeah, yeah -- that’s why you keep giving me mixed messages.”
She frowned. “I don’t mean to.” Though she supposed he was right. Actions spoke louder than words, especially where men were concerned. A friendly kiss could be misinterpreted.
“I know you don’t, Renee.” He scooted closer and laced his fingers through her hair. “Let me change your mind about us. Give me a chance.” He leaned forward and before she could protest, he covered her mouth with his.
Her palms pressed against his chest, but she didn’t push him away. She never dreamed he’d taste so good -- like coffee and caramel. She melted under the heat of his lips. His gentle taking of her mouth surprised her. She felt the strength and fire beneath the carefully controlled kiss. If he let go of that control… Her fingers curled into his shirt. He hadn’t worn a jacket tonight. Even so, his body generated enough heat to make her want to snuggle close and let him warm her, inside and out.
Sam pulled back enough to speak, but he didn’t release her. He kept his hand tangled in her hair. “I’ve wanted to do that for months.” He leaned in for another taste.
Despite her escalating desire, Renee pushed against his chest this time, holding him back. “You know the department really does frown on this. And I’m, well…”
“Afraid?” The corner of his mouth quirked up.
“No! What makes you think that? How ridiculous. Why would I be afraid?”
“Whoa, easy!” Sam sat back and raised his hands in a submissive gesture. “I just meant that I think you’re worried about what will happen to our working relationship if we get involved personally. It might make things awkward.”
She relaxed against the seat and sighed. He really did understand. “Exactly.”
“But you want to, right?”
She didn’t dare answer that. If she was honest and told him that she did want him, that she had fantasized about it a hundred times, they’d be all over each other right here in the car. But she couldn’t force a lie, so she remained silent. Getting involved with him could be the greatest experience of her life, or it could turn into a nightmare and she wouldn’t be able to find any peace from the situation, not even at work. Relationships gone bad had divided departments on more than one occasion, depending on which officers were friends with whom. She didn’t need that complication at this stage of her career.
“You want to.” It was a statement this time, not a question. “So what do we do?”
“We do nothing.” That was the least desirable, but safest route.
He shifted and slid his hand over her thigh. “That’ll kill us both, and you know it. We can make this work. I know we can, and if it doesn’t, no hard feelings.”
No hard feelings. That easy? He couldn’t possibly believe that.
His fingers disappeared under the skirt. “Oh, man. Stockings? I think I’m in love.”
“You’re crazy. You know that?” A slow throb started between her legs as he inched his fingers higher. She should push his hand away. She knew it, but she didn’t do it. It had been so long since her last relationship. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The action didn’t calm her as she’d hoped. It brought his scent into her lungs, sending her pulse skyrocketing. He leaned in and settled his mouth on her neck, kissing the delicate flesh while his warm breath tickled the sensitized skin.
“Sam…” The sound came out as more of a moan than his actual name. She felt her resolve weakening, right along with every muscle in her body.
He moved his mouth up to her ear and whispered softly, “I love the way you say my name when you’re all hot. I’d really love to hear how you say it when you come.” He lowered his head and flicked his tongue against the pulse-point in her neck.
She trembled at the moist contact. When his hand moved higher under the skirt, her breath caught in her throat. She eased her legs apart for one touch. Just one. So she’d know what it felt like. His fingers slid along the crotch of her underwear and she almost came right there. Oh, geez. So good.
Who was she kidding? Her resistance was completely gone and all she could think about was jumping his bones and fucking him until neither one of them could walk. His fingers pressed against her mound and her hips jerked forward. She needed more pressure. His thumb against her clit, his fingers deep inside her and pumping hard. He pulled away and she moaned again, this time in disappointment.
His fingers brushed across the top of her breasts. He slowly tugged open the laces of her silk top. “Let me help you out of the mic. It must be uncomfortable.”
Renee, unable to form a proper sentence, simply nodded. She glanced out the window, her gaze darting back and forth. The parking lot looked deserted except for the residents’ cars, but someone could walk past at any time.
“Don’t worry, no one’s around this time of night.”
She hoped he was right, because they were about to get up close and really personal. Right here. Right now.
His fingers drummed along the steering wheel. He’d pulled the car into an empty slot on the other side of the lot. At the last turn, he’d almost lost them. If he hadn’t seen the crappy green color on the side door, which didn’t match the rest of the gray car, he might have bypassed them when they entered the apartment complex.
After making a slow circle to find the best area to park, he’d pulled into a vacant spot and now sat watching. Hopefully, this complex didn’t have a security guard who would notice a strange car and get curious enough to investigate.
Wouldn’t it be interesting if the bitch really was moonlighting as a sleazy hooker now, instead of just trying to bust some poor, unsuspecting Johns? That brought up some delightfully nasty possibilities. This didn’t look like a place a hooker would take a John though. Too high-class for the neighborhood she’d been walking and not high-class enough for an expensive escort. Besides, his informant would have tipped him off about it if she’d turned official whore.
She was most likely just working undercover, as he’d been told, and knew the guy who had picked her up. Might even be a boyfriend. That made more sense. At least one of them must live here. Since she didn’t seem to have her own car, this was probably her place and the doofus in the compact had given her a ride home.
He’d watch and wait. Bide his time. For now.
Who knew four stories could be so hot, but Undercovers is indeed hotter than any blazing inferno. The strong characters emit emotions that grab the reader and never once allow this story to be put on hold. Ruth D. Kerce pens an erotic read that captivates from the first page to the last... These four scumptious stories are indeed one mind-blowing read. - Linda L., The Romance Studio
by Ruth D. Kerce
copyright © 2008, all rights reserved
Published by Changeling Press
Book Cover by Sahara Kelly
Order the ebook :
Changeling Press Fictionwise Kindle
Order the print book :
Amazon B&N Books-a-Million
return to - e-bookshelf or print bookshelf