by Nikki Duncan
He was dangerous. Off-limits beyond the scope of seeing her role through. But in the world of murderous plots she’d found herself in, he made her feel safe. And when he touched her, which he did often in little ways, he aroused her. He was smart and a good listener. He had connections.
Though he didn’t tell her how he could help, she trusted him. She didn’t trust many people, and never easily.
She pasted on a smile and approached the table. They still had to talk. She still had to figure out what to do about getting his hairbrush or razor, but for now, for a little bit longer, she wanted it to just be them. She wanted to enjoy the company of a man who made her laugh. Who unknowingly banished the sadness darkening her world by playing childish games. “Truth or dare?”
He blinked a few times and looked toward her. “Again?”
“Yeah. Truth or dare?”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Dare.”
“Excellent. I was hoping you’d say that.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “I have just the thing in mind.”
“No.” He dug in his heels, refusing to walk. “No way am I singing.”
“You said dare.” She grabbed his other hand and did a little dance to entice him toward the door. “You have to do the dare.”
“You’re going to pay for this.” He followed her to the door. “Did you already put in a song request?”
“Yep.” She pushed up to her toes and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, I didn’t choose ‘The Rainbow Connection’.”
“Oh hell. You don’t even know what songs I might know.”
“Which is why I picked one that you’re sure to know. And if you don’t, the crowd and I will help you.”
He dug his heels in again. “Kami, what did you pick?”
She dropped his hands and started snapping. She turned toward the stage and did an exaggerated hip sway as she walked the rest of the way. She cast a flirty glance over her shoulder. Breck’s cheeks were turning pinker the closer he got to the stage. If he went through with this, she would make it worth his while.
She waved to Mickey, the MC, who had agreed to make the introductions as soon as she signaled.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a karaoke virgin with us tonight!” Mickey grinned at Breck and played it up to the crowd. “Looking at his date, I’m thinking karaoke is where his virginity ends.”
The crowd screamed and yelled and whooped. Kami grabbed Breck’s hand and pulled him to the stage. He stooped down to her ear. “You are so going to pay for this.”
“Only if you go through with it. All the way.”
He shoved her onto the stage before him. “I never back down from a dare.”
“Kami has picked a song that…well,” Mickey continued. “She picked a song that isn’t done very often. Though it probably should be. Feel free to sing along. I’m sure you’ve all got enough booze in you to sing it from your tables!”
Mickey handed Kami and Breck a microphone and turned his attention back to his computer. A few seconds later the peppy opening to “I’m A Believer” by The Monkees started. Breck groaned, but he played along. Ten seconds into the song everyone in the place was singing loud and off-key. If Breck sucked, no one knew.
But when the song hit the Mmmmm Ohhhh part, he belted it out with awesome power. Then he turned to her. His eyes locked with hers, he grinned like a loon while he sang.
The crowd stopped singing and instead snapped rhythmically like the tambourine hits in the song. When the music ended, Breck tossed the microphones back to Mickey and hauled Kami off the stage. Cheering and Mickey’s jeers followed them out the door.
Breck shoved the door to his personal apartment closed behind Kami and threw his jacket and tie on the nearby table. He should have taken her to the office or to the residence for his cover ID, but home had been closer. And he’d needed her alone as quickly as possible.
Of all the songs the woman could have chosen… She picked one that she thought would be fun. Who could have guessed it would carry so much weight with how he’d been feeling. Hell, he hadn’t even realized what was churning inside until she’d dragged him onto that stage—something he’d never allowed anyone else to do. She made him want to play.
“So, I’m guessing you forgive me for the song choice?”
“Sure.” He grabbed her purse and keys and tossed them on top of his jacket. “As long as you’re out of that dress in the next thirty seconds.” He slid his hands up her back. “Where’s the zipper?”
“There isn’t one.” She stepped back and reached for the thin ribbon at her waist. Smiling, she pulled the string and the dress draped open to reveal a white lace bra and matching panties.
“Damn, woman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She moved toward him, stepping out of her shoes and slipping the dress off her shoulders. “Though I believe you are still overdressed.”
“Not for long.” He grabbed the shirt and ripped it apart, popping the buttons off in the process.
“Oh hell. I should have gotten you on that stage earlier.” She unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down. He toed off his shoes.
“Hmm-mmm.” He half laughed and flicked her bra open. “Next time you’ll be on the stage with a pole.”
“I only do private parties.” She eased her hands into his boxer briefs and pushed them down, stripping him. Her fingers brushing his skin lightly sent goosebumps coursing over him. Damn. No one ever gave him chills.
“You got that shit right.” If she even thought of doing a striptease for another man—
She bent at the knees to shove his underwear down. She blew an openmouthed breath of warmth over his cock.
Shit. He was in trouble.
With her legs spread wide, she grabbed his hips and took him into her mouth. He buried his hands in her hair and gritted his teeth against the urge to explode. How in hell did she take him so high so fast? He couldn’t keep up.
“Stop.” He pushed her head back, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up so she stood in front of him.
“You keep stopping me from finishing that.”
“You’re just too good at it.” Rather than stand in the doorway mostly nude and ready to nail her to the wall, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to his room. If she hadn’t insisted on driving her own car so she’d have it later, he’d have been inside her already. Now she wanted to torture him with soft touches.
Hell no.
“I like this dominant streak you have.” She shrugged and moved on to kissing his neck and whispering in his ear. “Or maybe it’s chivalrous. Either way, it’s sexy. It makes me wet.”
“Kami—”
“I can feel myself clenching. As if you’re already in me. Hard. Thick. Long.”
He fumbled for a condom from dresser drawer, turned toward the bed and tripped over the handle of his workout bag. They tumbled to the bed with her laughing hysterically. He sheathed himself and shut her up the only way he knew how. He ripped off her panties and thrust into the warm, welcoming moisture he’d throbbed for all the way home.
Kami screamed out her pleasure and raced with him over the ledge into ecstasy.
Several hours and orgasms later, with the sun lightening the morning sky, they sat shoulder to shoulder in his bed with two spoons and a jug of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. He didn’t want to break the perfection of the time they’d found together, but he couldn’t ignore reality indefinitely. “What were you planning to say to me before you followed me to the hospital?”
“I knew this couldn’t last.” She hesitated with the spoon halfway to her mouth and then stuck it back into the container. “I have Trevor’s brush. I was going to tell you I borrowed it. That I took it so I had an excuse to come see you again.”
“Really?” The thrill that raced through him might not hurt so much if there was any truth in that reasoning. “Why did Madame V want my brush?”
“I don’t know, but I do know it’s not smart to cross
her or question her orders.”
“How did she know the brush you took wasn’t mine?”
“I don’t know.” Kami got up, grabbed a nearby T-shirt and slipped it over her head. “She never left the mansion.”
He should be freaked at how comfortable she felt in his home. Hell, he should be freaked he was comfortable with her in his home. With any other woman he would be. Not that he let other woman in his home.
What had she done to him? It couldn’t be any crazier than the mess of thoughts running around in his head. “Okay, she had Channing’s razor and Trevor’s comb. She was after my brush. It has to be for DNA.” Trying to work it out, he was only half talking to her. “What’s she going to do with my DNA?”
“I saw this show once… Maybe I watch too much TV, but it got me thinking…”
“Go on.”
She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and closed her eyes as she sat on the end of the bed. Resignation clouded her eyes when she looked back at him. “Is it horribly insane to think she’s using it somehow to hypnotize her marks.”
“Hypnosis by DNA?”
“I know it sounds nuts, but I’m telling you…” She popped up to pace. “Channing would never have killed himself willingly.”
“Not crazy. Implausible.” He set the ice cream on the table beside the bed and got up for some shorts. “Any idea how it works?”
“Not really.” She sat again, straightened the hem of the shirt and flattened it over her thighs. “Lori was with both Channing and Trevor before their accidents. Channing wouldn’t have gotten physical with her, so whatever Madame is doing it has to be something that is passed on by smell or taste or touch.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I mean, if you have a severe enough peanut allergy you only have to smell the peanut oil to have what could be a deadly reaction.”
“So, we’re talking some sort of perfume or oil? Something that would only influence the person whose DNA was put into the mix?”
“Crazy. Implausible. Whatever. It explains why two men who were not suicidal and who both ran successful companies with important contracts on the table would suddenly try to kill themselves. And succeed in Channing’s case.”
Shit. It was implausible, but it made sense. “She sent you back very quickly for my DNA. To have processed it that fast she has to have round-the-clock staff with serious facilities and equipment. She also had to have Trevor’s on file to know you brought her the wrong sample.”
“I didn’t think you could process DNA that quickly.”
“If she had something to immediately compare it to, she could possibly rule it out that fast. It would likely take longer to work with something from scratch.” He sure hoped so anyway. “Assuming she’s doing this, how is she making them kill themselves?”
Kami lurched off the bed again and paced the floor. She kicked his clothes and shoes out of her path rather than walking over them like last time.
He was the one with tremendous insight into the criminal mind. He should be able to figure this out. “Okay, let me think.”
“I hope that’s not dangerous. I’d hate to cause your pretty head any pain.”
“An indirect joke about my hair. Funny.” He grabbed his clothes from the floor and dumped them into the laundry hamper. The fun-and-sex portion of the night was finished. “Channing was a scientist. He worked toward medical advancements.”
“Yes.”
“Did he work any with DNA?”
“A little.”
Every instinct told him Edwin was involved with Trevor’s accident. If he was an inside source, what was to say there hadn’t been one at Channing’s company? “Maybe Madame V has a scientist familiar with DNA who can create a customized lotion, oil, perfume or something along those lines. She uses her girls, like you, to get something with DNA on it and then she engineers a product that reacts specifically with their brain.”
“This is…scary smart.”
“Yeah.” He stepped up to her and reached out to brush her hair off her neck. “If you were wearing the product, I could have just infected myself.” He could have just signed his death sentence.
“So by mixing in your DNA to whatever concoction’s been cooked up, by having me wear it during a date, Madame V or whoever gains control over your mind.”
“It’s a theory. You said it yourself. Lori saw Channing and Trevor. Madame V told Aidan and Kieralyn that Lori left after something went wrong with Trevor. Lori had to have figured out something was wrong when a second client tried to kill himself. Even if she didn’t know about it at the beginning.”
Kami went to the bed and sank down. “She’s making them sign contracts before killing themselves because she knows they won’t sign them otherwise. You have a contract with Eston White right now that Trevor doesn’t want signed. That’s who Channing’s was with.”
“That’s what your note meant. Stay Safe. You were telling me to be careful with the contract.” Breck sat beside her and fingered the ends of her hair. She was good at tying possibilities together. She’d have made a great detective.
“And I was worried I’d put you in danger by taking that brush, but I couldn’t ignore her demand. It’s the only way I have of finding justice for Channing.”
“Trevor refused to sign, and I took over instead of Edwin.” Finally it was starting to make some sense. He was getting somewhere with the questions. “I’m the next target. You’re the weapon.”
She shook her head. He nodded.
“I don’t want to take her that brush. There’s too much we don’t know. I don’t want to put you in danger.”
She’d shown him how to let loose and enjoy himself. She’d given him back the pleasure he’d lost in music and then she’d given him two amazing nights. He would give her justice for her stepbrother.
“It’s the only way for us to get the closure we need. And I can promise you’ll have the FBI’s best at your back.”
Breck cupped her neck and pulled her face to his. He kissed her. He didn’t give women intimacy in kisses, but he poured everything he felt for Kami into his.
He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, coaxing her to open. She did with a soft sigh. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like the spicy honey mustard sauce she’d had with her dinner as it mixed with erotic thrills.
She buried her hands in his hair and pulled him closer. A moan slid past her lips and into him. His heart stuttered.
Under different circumstances, like a parallel universe where he was open to a relationship, they might have something together. She didn’t even care that his home was a mess, but his life was what it was. He wasn’t relationship material.
Hers was what it was. He wasn’t sure what that was other than complicated. He pulled back and slid back into his real skin.
He was an undercover FBI agent.
He was the team leader of the Specialized Crimes Unit.
He was not available for a relationship, pretend or real, with an amazing and secretive escort capable of robbing his breath and his ability to think by walking into the room.
Chapter Nine
He hadn’t spoken to Kami for two days. In an attempt to keep her safe, he’d had Tyler call Elegant Entertainment to book her. He’d been informed she had prior engagements. His next step had been for Liam to book additional appointments with Ava in hopes of drawing out more information. At least they’d found a little success there. More than he’d anticipated.
Right now, as he paced Trevor’s office, Kami could be on a date with another man. She could be wearing that sundress she’d worn last time he’d seen her. The one that was held together by nothing other than a string.
Damn it. He shouldn’t have let her go back. He should have taken her into protective custody. He wouldn’t be any closer to solving the case, but she would be safe. He needed to know she was safe. He needed to know she wasn’t with another man.
She wasn’t dancing with another man or daring
him into singing karaoke. He drummed his fingers on his legs, fighting the urge to clench them into fists. She better not be doing a striptease or stripping another man. And by god, she’d best keep that flirty smile to herself.
Pressure squeezed his temples. What the hell was his problem? And how had Trevor survived the nights that he’d known Lori had another assignment? They’d be dead. Every last man who thought to touch Kami…
“She’ll be fine.” Liam sat in one of the chairs facing Trevor’s desk.
The desk Breck would gladly relinquish as soon as they closed this case.
“She’s in over her head.” He paced.
“I disagree.” Liam kicked back and made himself comfortable, as if their resorting to using a civilian, an actress, as their inside man wasn’t a big deal. “She’s smart and seems to have good instincts.”
“And yet she isn’t keeping her mouth shut about her theory.”
“Right.” Liam sank deeper into the chair. Nothing seemed to raise his blood pressure or temper. Even Aidan didn’t understand what made him tick. Or if he did, he never said. “She’s confided in Ava and you. I’d say she’s been doing a great job picking the right people to talk to.”
“Another call girl?”
“Who’s a retired government agent searching for Lori.”
“Not that Kami knew that.” Why was he the only one seeing that point?
“Nor did she give Ava enough information to hang herself. She didn’t accuse or incriminate anyone, and when they did talk, she made sure it was well out of listening range of others. She’s not making poor judgment calls, and she’s taking every precaution you told her to.”
“Going out with other men is not what I consider a precaution.”
“It’s part of her job, and protecting that protects her.” Liam grinned. “You could have booked her. I’m sure Madame V would have given you top priority for her.”
He’d considered the option, but the need to protect his cover and not draw attention had won out.
