“You have indeed.”
“Do you have any questions for me then?” Eldon grasped the arms of his chair, preparing to stand.
“Just one.” The director stubbed out the cigar, waving his hand quickly. “Jesus, I’m already light-headed after one of those things. Just one question, Eldon, and I want you to answer it honestly.”
The room seemed to grow even more silent in that heartbeat of time before the director spoke once more.
“Would you like to come again?”
“In the place of Dr. Forster?”
“That’s one way, certainly.”
Eldon’s eyes grew wide for a moment, then he looked away. “I think that’s probably up to you—and Dr. Forster.”
“So it is, Eldon, so it is.” Heller sprang to his feet, undoing the last button of his suit coat. “Tamara will show you to your room and take care of anything you need. Anything at all.”
Then he nodded toward the back corner of the office, and both I and Eldon turned to look.
It was something I’d seen before, of course, but it still made the butterflies flutter in my belly each time, my nipples beginning to tingle insistently.
Crouched in shadow, the girl was on hands and knees atop a smooth gray marble table, quite low to the floor—which explained why I hadn’t spotted her when we’d first entered. She was tightly blindfolded, one of her plump, maroon lips drawn pensively between clean, white teeth. She wore nothing but her thick collar, and matching cuffs at ankle and wrist. Her bulging breasts were pinioned at their bases with thin leather straps, making the soft flesh taut, the nipples erect and jutting, the sweet—and obviously full—globes huddling between her elbows like prey searching for shelter from a predator.
Heller cracked his knuckles, flexing his long fingers as he strode toward the girl. “If you two will excuse me. Sometimes, one of our inmates needs a more… manual expression… of our values here.”
Tamara threw back the curtains, the sunshine that had finally broken through the clouds now pouring through the massive picture windows. The room was a massive suite, all dark wood and sumptuous upholstery. It looked like the Presidential Suite at a five-star hotel.
And here it is in the middle of the fucking sticks.
The vision of the kneeling girl with the bound breasts, waiting for Heller’s predations, kept repeating in his mind, along with all the other mind-blowing sights he’d witnessed during the last few hours. Sleep was a welcome visitor at times like these, when there was simply too much for the mind to process.
He needed something more than sleep now, though. He needed to know more about her.
Though he sat on the couch in the sunken living room area, he could never take his eyes from her. She moved with a feline grace, a languid sway of her hips, a smooth cadence to the way she walked. Her eyes seemed to take everything in, and through it all, she maintained a striking serenity, a peace with whatever was happening around her.
“You don’t have to do all that.” She took his bag to the bedroom, drawing all of the drapes to allow the room to fill with warm brightness. He liked it better with just the sunlight and the shadow at its margins. Artificial light would spoil the loveliness of watching the sunshine play through that soft, flaxen hair as she moved.
“Of course I do. But more to the point, I want to.”
She smiled at him then, kicking off the low-heeled sandals she’d been wearing when she’d met him in the punishment block. Even thinking that name was somehow wrong.
“Would you please come over here and sit down?” He was definitely feeling sheepish now, wholly unused to being waited upon, and by a virtual stranger, no less.
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice little more than a lilting murmur.
But rather than sit on the plush, deep cushions of the huge chair across the sitting area from him, she did something else entirely.
She knelt on the carpet before him.
His penis was already awake just at the sight of her lithe limbs folding beneath her, the flat, taut belly revealed by the midriff-baring top. Her shorts pulled up her lush thighs so far they seemed little more than a line of fabric where beautiful leg met curving hip.
His heart was galloping along nicely now, his cock an iron ridge between his legs, protesting loudly at the constriction of his jeans. He suddenly didn’t care if she saw it either. Why would he worry about such a thing at a surreal Satyricon of a place like this?
Besides, it’s just the job.
If only he had any real hope of convincing himself of that anymore.
“What… are you doing?” He whispered it, almost to himself, his gaze locked upon the vision of her stunning beauty.
Her smile was as bright and mischievous as it was irresistible.
“Waiting for you to decide what to do with me.” Her eyes sparkled as she said it, the deep blue of her gaze something that had an almost magnetic power on him.
He knew his mouth practically fell open, but he was momentarily stunned—despite the surge of arousal at her implication.
Remember the job, asshole. We don’t fuck the hookers, and we don’t do the blow.
But that didn’t mean we acted like uptight dickwads either. Not if we wanted to live through our assignment.
He stood up from the couch, taking a step closer, the sunshine brilliant all around them as he looked down upon the kneeling creature. Her gaze followed him as he stalked nearer. He noted that what he’d originally thought was a single piece top was in fact a button up, a tiny row of buttons the same color as the fabric running up the center of her chest.
“Open it.”
Don’t do this.
She took a sharp breath, but the bursts of color at her cheeks were her only sign of surprise at his order. He had no idea what he was doing, but something about this place, about the atmosphere all around, was affecting him—maybe even changing him.
Or maybe it’s simply revealing what was there all along.
Watching her fingers working each button slowly loose, inside, that small, quiet voice was pleading with him to stop this, that once this door within him was opened, it couldn’t be closed again.
You’re the good guys. They don’t do this.
Gently, she pulled the top open, her breasts spilling forth. A hint of bluish veins could be seen here and there across their alabaster curves, the nipples a very light pink, the areolas, broad and smooth, an even paler shade of blush.
“Jesus Christ…”
Far back on each nipple, tight about the base, was a silver clamp. They were affixed unmercifully tight, her poor nipples crushed within their embrace.
“Why, Tamara?”
“I have to… unless I’m drained.”
“You mean, yours are… too?”
She nodded slowly, blushing freely now, but not hiding her nakedness. “Since I’m a… special case, I must wear them when I get especially full. Until I’ve… given up my yield.”
“Who?”
“The director. He takes me down there himself, when I need it. It’s quick, and quiet, and he doesn’t make it any more humiliating than it needs to be. With the right one though, even that could be something I might…” She shook her head, a note of almost sadness creeping into her gaze. “But I must, at least once a day, or it becomes too much for me. It’s the price all of us pay for being here.”
“The women.”
She nodded once more, her hands moving to the open top.
“I didn’t tell you to close it.”
Her gaze snapped up to his as she chewed at the corner of her mouth. There was a heat he saw there in her gorgeous eyes, even as his lust and his conflict raged within him.
Anything you need. Those had been the words of the director. He knew what that meant now—and he knew with equal certainty that he mustn’t let himself be seduced by those same words.
Eldon crouched before her and took each side of her top, drawing it closed, hiding the luscious breasts his hands positively ached to touch.<
br />
Then he did something so unlike him, he’d never have believed himself capable of it.
He leaned close, down upon one knee, and softly kissed the crown of her head. She sighed, and her fingertips whispered across the back of one hand.
But that was all they allowed each other.
“I don’t know what others would expect of you… but I’m not like the others.”
Eldon rose then, taking in one last, long drink of the gorgeous woman kneeling on his carpet, then walked down the hall to his bedroom.
He locked the door behind him, and though his heart—and his body—screamed for something quite the opposite, he hoped she’d be gone the next time he opened it.
Chapter 5
As Eldon sat there in Lt. Bennett’s room, he remembered that long drive back, the blindfold Nathan had made him wear almost a comfort that second time around, the shutting out of the light a symbolic shutting out of the emotions he felt as he’d watched that lovely woman bare herself to him.
It was all wrong. This was all wrong.
Because he’d wanted her. God in heaven, but he did—in every way.
He’d lain awake almost every night since the visit, his hard cock in his hand, hoping he wouldn’t succumb to the memory of it, the smell of her hair, the sweet, gentle sound of her voice.
She was a light in the middle of darkness.
The problem was, that darkness was a very, very familiar thing. It spoke to him, it knew him.
It was him.
“You somewhere in there, Officer Bishop?”
He must’ve pissed off his handler; he never used his last name unless he’d fucked something up.
It was the third meeting he’d had with Bennett, and every time it was the same.
“I need more time. I feel like I’m close, but I don’t have much to go on yet.”
Eldon didn’t know why he lied. Why didn’t he just tell Bennett that he already had enough to have SWAT, and even the fucking feds, descending upon the place?
But he didn’t.
“How much more time? Can you give me anything, anything at all?”
He knew Bennett was always under pressure. Deep cover hits were always spendy, and they were always risky. They were one of the quickest ways for a cop to get dead—and his department might never be able to say a word about it.
Losing one of their own was never easy, but not even being able to acknowledge a fallen comrade, mourn him in public, that was a special kind of shitty.
Why do you care? You’ve gone so fucking far past the point of no return.
Maybe, but how was he going to learn anything else if he had the place shut down on any number of the several felonies he already had probable cause on?
How could he really know anything anymore?
The facts were clear; the place was almost certainly involved in a big time trafficking operation, and where there was trafficking, there were two other things: money and drugs.
The Trust was drowning in money though, so something didn’t add up there. They had zero reason to be involved with drugs either—too hot, too many problems.
Perhaps it was simply lust, avarice, sadism allowed free rein.
The problem with that theory, though, was that everybody seemed to be there of their own free will. Though he’d never seen anyone forced, per se, he’d seen more bound women that day than in a fucking porn vid. Still, instinct was a powerful thing, and he never, ever, got the sense those women were there… because they’d hadn’t chosen to be.
They might not have particularly liked what was being done to them, but he didn’t believe any of them had been coerced against their will.
And you understand that fact—not to mention your precious feelings—mean exactly DICK as far as the law is concerned, don’t you?
Something wasn’t right, though, not least being the fact that the ‘medical aid’ he’d been asked to render wasn’t much different than what could be given by a layman. Perhaps the rough pregnancy sex and the mastitis cases might have been slightly above the pay grade of the layman.
But none of the rest was. That alone was suspicious.
One thing they always taught you on deep cover assignments: if something felt wrong or off, then it almost certainly was.
The really good undercover agents kept going anyway.
Then there was the subject of what they were doing with those women. Had he really seen that? Had that really happened?
He tried not to think about the fact those memories made his cock hard, too.
Good guys, remember?
“Yeah, the good guys.” Eldon didn’t realize he’d muttered it aloud.
“You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on in that two cent brain of yours, Bishop?” Bennett threw his file down on the hotel room desk, black coffee sloshing out, wetting one corner of the paper. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what the hell that meant. Look, I just need more time, Lieutenant. A little more time, and I think this thing’s going to go our way.”
Sure it is, as long as your way leads to her.
Chapter 6
It had been two weeks since the trip to the farm, and despite asking the lieutenant for more time, Eldon still hadn’t been asked to return. He knew he’d had to keep quiet about it, act as if it were just part of the job.
He had a sense that Heller hadn’t been the only one evaluating him. Dr. Forster had never stopped since the first day Eldon had been hired.
So it was with no small bit of surprise that Eldon heard his name called from the rear exam room at Forster’s practice. It was toward the end of the day, and he hadn’t even been aware Dr. Forster was still seeing a patient.
But when he opened the door, he nonetheless found himself gazing at a stunning older blonde woman of perhaps forty. She was in a polka dot white exam smock, her bright blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Seated high up on the edge of the exam table, her pink painted toes were posed upon the steel slide-out step at the base of the table.
Nothing out of the ordinary, at first glance… until at second glance, one noticed the hem of her smock had been pushed all the way up her sleek, firm thighs, the paleness of her skin dazzling, his eyes unerringly drawn to it for just the briefest of moments.
Her full breasts were clearly outlined under the threadbare fabric, her nipples poking impudently against it. The dark delta of her pubis was just hinted at between her thighs, though she kept them modestly together.
The patient looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it at first.
Dr. Forster, seated on his roll-around stool, his back to the door, his fingers whirring upon a swing out keyboard to the woman’s right, spoke as he typed.
“I’m assigning you to visit the farm once a week. Do you think you can handle that? Heller gave me a glowing report.” Forster swiveled upon his stool, peering up at him. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“I… sure, I guess. I can’t prescribe though—and some of the cases…” Eldon wasn’t sure how to say it, shrugging.
“Complicated, I know. If you need prescriptions, just text them in to my cell, and I’ll get them called in immediately. I’m up to my neck in work here, and I’m afraid I can’t make it out on my normal run to the farm myself. I need you to be my eyes and ears out there.”
Eldon tried valiantly to keep an even keel, to not allow himself so much as a smile at the news, even as he tried to process the unexpected maelstrom of fear and anticipatory elation at learning he’d get to go back.
And, if he were lucky, set eyes on her once more.
“Who’s going to be helping you at the office then?”
Forster tipped his clipboard toward the watching woman. “She is.”
“And you are?” The words leaped from Eldon’s lips before he could catch himself. He could have punched himself in the nuts for uttering such a presumptuous question.
“Sharon Forster.” She offered her slender, tanned hand and he took
it, the smoothness of her skin as striking as the confident strength of her grip. She winked at him playfully. “I’m the wifey.”
“Oh, sh—”
Eldon wiped the words from his lips just in time.
His cheeks burned as hot as the sun as both Sharon and Tom burst into laughter.
“Relax, Eldon. You didn’t know.” Forster set the clipboard down on the exam table next to her ass. “Sort of sprung that on ya. Sorry about that. Look, we’ve got you scheduled for next weekend. Same deal. Probably overnight stay again, unless they have no cases and Nathan can get you back into town the same day. Will just depend.”
Tom Forster’s keen gaze boring into him in silence, Eldon realized this was his cue to get scarce. Especially considering the patient waiting not so primly on the man’s exam table… was his beautiful wife.
“Um, okay.” Eldon opened the door.
“Please reschedule the remainder of my afternoon appointments. I have a, um, special case I need to see to here.”
Eldon was barely successful at keeping his gaze from going wide eyed, but he said nothing as he walked into the hallway, turning back toward the doorway as Forster called for him again.
“Oh, just to warn you. My brother will be here in about ten minutes. When he arrives, please send him right back.”
Eldon cleared his throat, making sure he understood. “Should I, uh, reschedule, your, um, current patient then too?”
Dr. Forster grinned. “Oh, she’s not a patient today.” Forster gently slapped one of her smooth thighs. “Not exactly, anyway. Be a good girl, and thank him for helping us.”
“Thank you, Eldon.” A shy smile curved her pink-glossed lips.
“I—it was no problem, Mrs. Forster.”
“Please call me Sharon.” She grinned then, her smile only amplifying her allure.
“Should I tell, ah, your brother to wait then?” Eldon cocked a thumb over his shoulder.
“Not at all,” Forster said, with a snap of latex as he pulled a glove on one hand. “Send him in as soon as he gets here.”
Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys Page 148
