Love Undercover_A Romance Compilation

by Amy Brent

  I rolled to the other side of my pillow, groaning. What time was it?

  My little electronic clock made me groan louder. It was four in the morning. My mind was buzzing with pent-up adrenaline. I hadn’t had one of these nights in a while, so I’d forgotten how it was.

  It was an inexplicable middle of the night wake-up where I’d try just about every recourse to force myself into sleep. Sleeping pills. Melatonin. Lullabies and meditation. The only thing that stuck was wakefulness.

  Ever since I’d started seeing Kathryn, my random weekly nights of insomnia had disappeared. I chuckled darkly. Funny how we only remembered the bad things when they recurred and the good things—

  I sat up in bed. No way. I was not going to think of that bitch. She had caused enough grief. And the whole thing having to do with Trisha Nichols… My mouth twisted. It was just too fucking perfect.

  Storming into the bathroom, I glared at my box shower. Might as well. It wasn’t like I was getting to sleep anytime soon, and delving into warm, fuzzy nostalgia about Kathryn wouldn’t do me any favors.

  Inside, my showerhead sprayed out an unexpected smash of water before diminishing to a thin trickle. I swore. I forgot that the damn thing was on the fritz. Fitting that it would act up tonight of all nights, too.

  Despite that, if I turned away from it and focused on the sporadic sensation of warmth running down my back, I could lull myself into a false sense of something resembling relaxation.

  Instinctively, my hands slipped to my boner. It was uncomfortable, pent-up with a whole weekend’s worth of frustration.

  During our weekend drinking jag, Mark had tried to get me to join in on his girl spree to no avail. I’d been willing enough, sure, but as soon as my hand would touch one of those women, my blood would run cold. Despite my mind’s insistence that I should just go for it and screw one of them and forget about Kathryn, my body knew better. The woman before me, no matter how sexy or cool she seemed, was nothing to me.

  No, nothing compared to Kathryn and those sweet curves of hers. That dark hair, and eyes so dark they could swallow you.

  My eyes snapped open to see my hand stroking myself at just the thought of Kathryn’s physical attributes. A groan slipped out of my lips, but I didn’t stop moving. Might as well. If this past weekend was any indication, it wasn’t like I was going to fuck anyone else anytime soon.

  I closed my eyes, easing my back against the shower as trickles of warm water dribbled memories of the past down my back.

  That first second when I saw her, all done up in a little dress and pink lips glossed like they had just been kissed.

  Was she dating anyone else while she had been seeing me? Had we even been exclusive, or was that just another lie she’d told? I shoved the thought away. Right now, I wanted to get my boner harder than ever, not wilted into an early grave.

  I closed my eyes and let the memories I’d been steadfastly drinking away come flooding back in.

  Kathryn, all done up in that fishnet bodysuit I’d seen in my dreams before seeing it in real life. Her mouth drooping in arousal at the mere sight of the sex toys I used. Kathryn, screaming out her pleasure on my kitchen counter.

  And what if she were here now?

  The question was insidiously light, but I didn’t care. I had a cock to jerk off.

  If she walked through that bathroom door, I would throw myself out of the shower. I’d leave it running. The spatters of the water would mingle with her moans as I shoved her against the wall. She’d be wearing nothing, ready for me.

  I’d twist her around on the wall and smear her face into it. I’d smack her punishment into her ass before attacking it with my mouth. I’d taste her luscious mounds with my tongue, spanking and nibbling and biting and tugging my rage into it. As she groaned, I’d squeeze until she squealed.

  Giving her ass such a resounding spank, I’d make her let out a little yelp. Bending down, I’d kiss the white imprint of my hand as she groaned for release.

  But I wouldn’t give it to her.

  No, I’d turn her around and shove her on her knees and fuck her needy throat. I’d mash my merciless dick into her mouth, so far down that I’d bend into that little throat of hers. I’d slap her in the cheek with my hard rod. And then, and only then, would I lift her up to my erection.

  I’d use her for what she was for. Like a fuck doll, I’d lift her on and off my raging boner. On and off, deeper and harder. She would be screaming, but I wouldn’t give a shit. The only screaming would be in my head, my own harried mind roaring for me to finish the job, to fuck the bitch until I’d had enough of her. And so, I would. I’d fuck her clean of her moans, of even her orgasms. One, two, three, it wouldn’t matter. I’d fuck her until my cock was satisfied. And then I’d toss to her the floor and cover her with my liquid joy.

  My eyes snapped open to see my cum spilling down the drain with the rest of the water. Oh fuck that felt good.

  Back in my room, the clock read four thirty.

  I collapsed into bed and fell asleep, praying that when I woke up, I would’ve come Kathryn Munn entirely out of me.

  Chapter 27

  Kathryn

  “I have something to tell you.”

  That was the voice mail I had left him. Now, in the middle the workday, I called again, hoping to god he had at least listened before deleting it.

  He picked up the second time I called.

  “What?”

  His voice sounded tired, as if his constant stream of rage had been wearing him out.

  “I meant what I said in the voice mail,” I told him. “I’ve got something to tell you. Something big.”

  Silence, then an unwilling: “Okay. Tell me then.”

  “Not over the phone.”

  Another pause, then a cruel laugh.

  “You really think that’s going to work? To make me see you so that I give in to whatever bullshit stunt you’re going to pull? Think again.”

  My hands were shaking. I clasped them together.

  “Last time we saw each other in person you weren’t exactly swayed by anything I said,” I reminded him.

  Another thoughtful silence.

  “Fine,” he said. “We can meet at McDonald’s. Not likely to run into anyone I know there.”

  I swallowed back my protest but shrugged.

  “Fine. What—”

  “Five thirty, after work,” Eric said, “so we can just get it over with.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye.

  I took a deep breath and slipped my phone back in my pocket. Time to get back to work.

  I was back in the office doing research for my case. Sgt. Williams had seemed surprised when I’d been less than thrilled at the prospect of doing another undercover mission. It was another person accused of fraud, although this time, the banker’s wife, Cecelia Vergere, was just someone I would have to befriend, thankfully. And yet, the mere thought of lying to someone again filled my stomach with dread.

  Nevertheless, I’d put on a brave face, informed the sergeant I’d been feeling sick lately, and promised to get to work on it straightaway.

  The feeling sick part wasn’t a lie either. Sick at heart and body.

  Evidently, last night, once my mind had found out I was pregnant, my body had kicked into gear, getting me up at all hours of the night to throw up into the toilet bowl.

  Once Sadie had caught me sobbing in the bathtub, cradling a rubber duck pathetically, I’d had to admit the truth to her. She’d been an absolute angel, making me my favorite carrot cake with the weird chocolate icing and even promising to support me no matter what I chose to do with the baby.

  She hadn’t said so, although the offer had been implicit. Sadie herself had an abortion a few years back. She’d been with a guy, some drug dealer, who was as far from a good dad as you could get. As for Sadie herself, at that time, she’d barely been scraping by month to month. Not to mention she’d stoically said then and now that she never wanted to have children.

&n
bsp; Anyway, I had been the one to accompany her through that ordeal, from the harrowing doctor’s office to the hospital stay. Afterward, Sadie had been right as rain, relieved, frankly.

  “My biggest fear was that they were going to tell me they couldn’t go through with it,” she’d informed me.

  Although, a few months later, we’d gone into a baby store for my cousin’s baby shower and Sadie had had to leave unexpectedly, bursting into tears as soon as we set foot out in the mall.

  Abortions were a big deal. There was no doubt about that. And something in me coiled in horror at the mere thought of such a solution. No, no matter how this conversation with Eric went, I was pretty sure I would be keeping the baby, even if it would completely ruin my life.

  Anyway, I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the fact that I actually was pregnant, let alone what to do with said baby growing inside me.

  Back in front of my desk, I stared my glazed eyes through another section of Cecelia’s Facebook wall. She was the type of person who posted about ten times a day, if not twenty, so there were ample opportunities for me to glean information that should help in my quest to become her BFFL. So far, I’d learned that Cecelia liked planning vacations, bragging about said vacations, and encouraging others to take similar vacations. Oh yeah, and she had a little Shih Tzu named Mimi who was pretty cute.

  Finally, after about two hours of this, I tore myself away from the screen to find that the wall clock was on my side for once. Work was over.

  I didn’t even have time to stop at home, but I had brought a change of clothes for the occasion.

  In the bathroom stall at the station, I changed into a nice knee-length skirt and tight T-shirt. Sexy, but not over the top. If Eric thought I was going to grovel for him, he was wrong. Although I did miss him—a lot actually.

  The McDonald’s he had chosen was a particularly seedy one. It was on the outskirts of town, and there was a pile of teenagers sitting in the grass beside the parking lot.

  He was waiting inside at one of the booths and stood up when I got there.

  “I ordered you a sundae,” he said, shoving a half-mushy thing at me.

  I eyed it without accepting it.

  “Did you come here an hour early just to order me something inedible?” I asked with a gentle smile.

  Eric didn’t crack so much as a grin at my joke. Gesturing me over to the booth, he said, “I’m ready.”

  I sat down across from him, struck by the difference in him. Maybe it was the fluorescent lights, but he looked like a shadow of his former self, almost disheveled even. His hair looked like he’d slept on it funny, while his eyes looked a faded shade of blue.

  “So,” he said.

  “I thought I should tell you this in person,” I said.

  Anxiously, I searched his face for the courage to go on, but everything in Eric’s face told me he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Nevertheless, this was the right thing to do. As terrifying and horrible as it was, I had to tell Eric about the baby.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  My voice, as quiet as it had been, seemed to blare our surroundings into silence. It seemed like everyone had heard, like the group of preteens sitting at the far edge of the place, torpedoing fries at each other, even the purple-lipped cashier eating messed-up sundaes.

  “You’re lying.”

  Eric’s voice was so certain, he made me pause for a minute. I shook my head.

  “I wish I were, but I took the test. Twice.”

  On the table, both of Eric’s hands formed furious fists, then sagged into open lumps. His gaze was a scalpel, trying to cut me up, to cut up my words.

  “You’re lying,” he repeated more forcefully this time. “You told me you were on the pill, unless that was another lie.”

  The last part he aimed at me with a sneer. My gaze dropped to my shaking knees.

  Suddenly, I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet, even just for wearing my stupid knee-length skirt and thinking Eric would actually notice. For thinking he’d act any different than how he was acting now.

  “I was on the pill. I am,” I said slowly, “but I’m guessing one of the times I slept over, I must’ve gotten off schedule and taken it too late. It was a mistake. I screwed up.”

  “You bet you did,” Eric growled. “Anyway, even if all that is true, if you are pregnant, it isn’t mine.”

  Now it was my turn to aim my own glare at him.

  “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone else. Not for months.”

  “Oh really?” Eric jeered. “Like how you were a writer just doing a bit of mistress work on the side?”

  Without noticing, I had been squeezing and pulping the plastic cup of the ice cream sundae Eric had gotten me. Beads of ice cream had splattered down the side and onto the table. I let it go.

  “Eric,” I said slowly, glaring at him, “I’m not lying.”

  He twisted away, as if he couldn’t bear to even sense the force behind my stare.

  “I don’t believe you’re pregnant,” he said quietly, almost pleadingly.

  “If you don’t believe me, come watch me take the test. You can see for yourself,” I snapped.

  Screw Eric. If he wanted to be a dick about all this, that was just fine and dandy with me. I’d been trying to do the right thing by telling him, but now I could see his mind had been made up against me the moment I’d told him the truth. There would be no talking to him now.

  Eric rose to his feet.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We stopped at the same Walgreens I’d gone to. It seemed like an eerie kind of déjà vu as the fluorescent lights burned into me and we got the same test I’d used before, good old Clearblue.

  In the bathroom at his house, I did the test. While he waited in the corner, with his back to me, I peed on the applicator. Then, we waited.

  A small part of me hoped that this was some kind of horrible mix-up, that the applicator would just show one line. But when I flipped the applicator face up, my last bit of hope dried up with it.

  I held up the plastic to his face, the two lines clearly displayed. He staggered backward as if I’d smacked him with it. I guessed in a way, I had.

  “No,” he said in a low voice.

  With his back against the wall, he slid onto the floor. Gazing ahead of him blankly, he repeated, “No.”

  “Look, I don’t have to involve you in the baby’s life if you don’t want me to,” I said quietly. “I won’t even sue you for child support. This was all a big mistake, and if that comes even close to having you see that I’m sorry for my part in it, I’ll take it.”

  Right now, Eric was a different person. His head had sunk onto his knees, his hands wrapped around him like a little kid. I almost wanted to crouch down to give him a consoling pat, to take that brown-haired head I’d come to care for so deeply and stroke the pain away. But I could see that I was the one who had put him on the floor, and I didn’t want to cause him any more pain than I already had.

  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do anyway,” I admitted to him.

  As I stood there and stared at the man who was full of words he wouldn’t say, it occurred to me that it was time for me to go.

  “Goodbye, Eric,” I said. Then I left.

  Chapter 28

  Eric

  Oh god no.

  That was my first thought upon waking up, realizing that the whole Kathryn mistress thing was a scam, that she was a dirty liar and that, worse yet, she was pregnant—with my child.

  The memory of her last speech before she left, where she apologized for deceiving me and even revealed she wouldn’t be suing me for child support, sent me curling the pillow around my head in newfound despair.

  With every day, it was getting harder to hate Kathryn Munn.

  Who was she even? Had she ever really cared, or had that all been part of the charade? The way she’d acted afterward had certainly suggested she might have had feelings for me, but who really knew?

&nb
sp; At work, Mark had left a sloth sticky on my computer with a link and a note that read, You’re going to be a daddy.

  I stared at the sheet for a little while. Mark was right in more ways than he realized. Even as I opened the link to see the sloth we had adopted as part of Virus Killer’s charity outreach, I could barely see it.

  All I could see was Kathryn’s streaming face when she’d spoken to me in the bathroom. She’d acted as if she were completely unaware she was crying. She hadn’t brushed away a tear one time, maybe because she really didn’t have any idea, or maybe because she thought she deserved the tears.

  Did she? I couldn’t really tell anymore.

  I watched my clock tick through a good fifteen minutes before I decided to get out of there, at least for lunch.

  “Eric?” my mom said, picking up on the first ring. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep the anxiousness in my voice under control. “Are you free for lunch today?”

  “Well, let’s see,” she said, and I could hear footsteps as she probably went to check her gardening wall calendar. “Looks like I’m free. Stephanie cancelled our normal lunch because she’s sick with the flu.”

  “Darn,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. “So, I’ll see you at Maryvale Garden in thirty minutes?”

  “Well sure,” my mom said, surprised. “That is an awfully early lunch. Are you sure there isn’t anything on your mind?”

  “I’ll tell you at lunch, Mom. See you later,” I said, hanging up before she could give her invariable argument.

  The last thing I wanted to do was confess my problems with the police, my mistress, and a baby to my mom over the company telephone.

  ***

  At Maryvale Garden, my mom was there before me of course, despite me being a good five minutes early. As soon as I saw where she was sitting, my heart dropped to my feet. How could I have forgotten that I’d taken Kathryn to this outdoor patio, too? And what were the odds of my mother choosing the exact same garden-bordered spot Kathryn and I had sat in last time?