The American Soldier Collection 7: Their Sin City Showgirl (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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The American Soldier Collection 7: Their Sin City Showgirl
J.J. Jacobs is one sexy, undercover cop. A Vegas showgirl, she escaped death only to be hunted by the killer and his cohorts. Calder Murphy, Conway Lewis, Brook Lewis, and Lincoln Jones are retired Special Forces and set on keeping her alive, especially since others have failed her. She’s combative, untrusting, negative, and on the edge of a breakdown. She’s not convinced that they can be trusted, despite their military backgrounds, all those muscles, and take no prisoners attitudes.
Some sparring on the mat, combative personalities, sexual tension, and it’s the perfect combination for heated passion. But with her life on the line, and a need to capture a high profile killer, could their own fears and unwillingness to trust send her right into the pathway of the killer?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 48,668 words
THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 7: THEIR SIN CITY SHOWGIRL
Dixie Lynn Dwyer
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
visit dpgroup.org for more books
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 7: THEIR SIN CITY SHOWGIRL
Copyright © 2013 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
First E-book Publication: December 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of The American Soldier Collection 7: Their Sin City Showgirl by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Dwyer’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Dear Readers,
May you enjoy the latest addition to my American Soldier Collection.
Their Sin City Showgirl is a story about survival and learning to trust again.
Life has thrown J.J. some pretty difficult and frightful experiences, yet she trudges on, determined to be the strong, independent woman that has made her the best investigator and woman she can be.
Just as she feels like there’s no hope of surviving, or getting out of the major trouble she is in, Conway, Brook, Lincoln, and Calder enter her life, and immediately thrust her into their own protective custody. She’s keeping secrets. So are they. But she’ll soon realize that they are more than just soldiers trying to do a job. Just as they realize she is more than some troubled woman on the run, with a bull’s-eye on her forehead.
Sometimes, life’s circumstances cause one’s heart to close up, and forget how to love, how to trust, and to just feel. To learn to love again in little steps takes a higher power. To love for a minute, for an hour, for a day, may seem to be the most difficult task. And to learn to love for life may seem impossible.
Enjoy their journey.
Hugs,
~Dixie~
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 7: THEIR SIN CITY SHOWGIRL
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2013
Prologue
“Please. This is not why I took this job. I’m not interested in this. Please.” Undercover Nevada State Police Detective, Marlee Davidson stated as she tried to undo the bindings on her wrists. In a flash, the tables had turned on her. There was no one around to call to for help. No one knew she was out at this hour. The lead she’d thought she had was a setup. That conniving little bitch, Tara, was part of this.
“Oh, you are interested. I can tell, and so can the others.”
He caressed her hair. When he’d first approached she’d had to do a double take. Then, of course, came the realization that he may know who she was. But he didn’t lead onto that. He toyed with her. She realized that this man was in fact a killer. She was shocked.
And she knew he was the killer because Tara had led her here. Marlee had thought that she was catching a break in the case. She’d figured out that whenever the McCues had a private party in the small back room of the casino, deals were going down. Men were placing their orders, but some big shots were fulfillling their fantasies.
She tried again unsuccessfully to pull her wrists from the bindings. It was no use. The fucker had gotten her. After years of training, working undercover, and finally proving to her commanders that she was capable of a mission like this, she’d fucked up.
The smack to the side of her head came out of nowhere, breaking her line of thought.
She gasped, and then sidestepped and tried to use her legs to defend herself.
“I thought you were special. When I saw you here, the new girl, the long red hair and pretty little figure, I knew I would have you. I planned this all out, ya know. The
dim lights, the loud music. Now it’s time to play the game. You’re going to do exactly as I say. You’re smart. I know you know how to improvise,” he stated, and the expression on his face, and in his tone of voice, alerted her gut instincts immediately. Was her cover fully blown? Did he know she was working undercover. Oh, fuck. What am I going to do?
“No, I’m not going to do exactly what you say. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s not part of the job requirement working at the casino. Where’s McCue? He won’t let you do this,” she said and he struck her again.
He grabbed her by the throat and stared into her face. She saw the evil, the hatred in his eyes, and knew she was going to die.
“You wanted to catch the men who are responsible for the missing women? It was your choice to come here. Now you’re part of the show.”
He ran his finger down the side of her cheek to her lips, as he held her neck with his other hand. She was pressed against the table, as the music got louder and the sounds of the drums and the bass made her entire body pulse.
Something changed in his eyes as he stared at her. Something evil, dark now attacked her senses. He quickly twisted her around and then stepped back.
“Dance for me, slut. Make up for me finding you here, in this club. I know you were going to cheat on me.”
She was confused. She didn’t understand what the hell he was saying. One second it sounded as if he knew she was working undercover, a cop on the case of the missing women, and the next, he was telling her to dance for him and make up for cheating on him. She was confused.
He slammed his fist down on top of her shoulder like a sledgehammer. She screamed, as she fell to her knees.
“That’s right. This is where you belong.” He shoved his palm against her forehead. The back of her head hit the lip of the table from the booth behind her.
He started to unzip his pants.
“No. No!” she screamed as she tried to stand up, despite the pain in her shoulder and the hinderance of the bindings on her wrists.
He struck her again.
She screamed.
He grabbed her by her hair and she was forced to look up into his evil eyes, as the music continued to fill the room. No one was coming. No one was going to stop him from fulfilling his fantasy. The lights flashed and shimmered around the room and across the ceiling. The setting was like a nightclub, with the blasting music, the pounding of the bass, the ultraviolet rays of light and flashes of white and silver pulsating around them. It made her feel frazzled, unable to focus.
“You chose to be here.”
“No. I didn’t. Let me go. People are looking for me. I was supposed to meet them,” she screamed at him, as the flashes of white and silver light passed across his face. He appeared wild and angry. She attempted to stand up. He shoved her back down.
“Oh, you mean your fellow cops? Yeah, well, they’ll meet up with you, very soon.”
She swallowed hard. He knew she was a cop. Her cover was blown. But how? She had been so careful.
Tara?
She tried to escape on her knees, and as she fell to the floor face first, he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her back up. The pain radiated from her shoulders and neck to the roots of her hair. She screamed for help but knew she wouldn’t be heard among the loud music, the wild and crazy flashing lights, and the bass of those damn drums. Her heart was pounding just as fast and fear consumed her. There was no escaping this man. She’d failed at her job. She’d failed and it was going to cost her her life.
He pulled her up and stared at her.
“They’ll see you again. Your pig friends. At the crime scene,” he whispered and then the expression on his face was so evil, so intense, she knew this was it.
“Fuck you. I know who you are. They’ll figure it out, and then they’ll kill you. Your people will find out what kind of sick bastard you really are.”
A small smirk emerged on his face as he undid his zipper and dropped his pants.
“No. They won’t.”
* * * *
Julianna “J.J.” Jacobs stole a peek at the crowd from behind the heavy, velvet, red stage curtain. A group of female performers covered the stage, each young woman dancing her heart out hoping to stand out from the others and catch her big break. The beat of the fast drums brought a feel of excitement and energy toward the crowd. The women danced their hearts out, keeping up with the fast beat and maintaining their form. The shiny sequin beaded skirts hugged their shapely hips, as the shimmering, beaded trims, whipped back and forth against their toned thighs. They looked fantastic as the women performed their number simultaneously with perfection just like during rehearsals this morning.
She stood backstage, waiting for her moment in the spotlight. Five nights a week and almost two months into this gig. She had to have established some credibility by now.
She looked around the room backstage. It was a madhouse, too. It had an area for makeup, one for hair, and another with floor-to-ceiling mirrors to practice routines and check yourself out from head to toe.
She couldn’t help but feel a bit on edge. She wasn’t nervous, but she knew that time was running out. A third woman had gone missing three days ago, and no one knew shit.
J.J. was trying her hardest to play her role and find out information. But with one of the women who’d disappeared being a federal agent, things were looking pretty bleak. There was no connection to the casino, but J.J. knew that’s how these men got away with it. The victims always left the premises and then disappeared. Or at least that’s what the detectives and the feds thought. The crime scenes were never anywhere in the vicinity of this club. But they’d caught a break. They’d received an anonymous call from someone who was approached to prostitute for money. She was scared, and she knew about the murders. Too bad they couldn’t track her down now.
J.J. peeked out toward the crowd, knowing that she was to perform next. She wasn’t really nervous. She just wanted to be certain to pull off her act. Things were getting complicated around here. Three weeks, and numerous conversations with fellow employees, as well as the bosses, and she didn’t have enough evidence to point fingers. All she had to go by were her gut instincts. Being a cop, she relied on those on a daily basis.
She didn’t want to blow her cover, but she also was desperate for answers and wanted to nail the scumbag behind the multiple murders. Two federal agents had disappeared, Meredith Perkins and Denise Sinclair, just three days ago. Before that the total was five, including J.J.’s friend and fellow undercover officer, Marlee Davidson. The Commander wanted to pull her out, but she’d begged him to let her remain just for a little while longer. Marlee’s murder hit the department hard. She was young, beautiful, and establishing her abilities as an undercover detective. But the risks with this case were higher than most. Her cover had been blown. They knew that because the prick responsible for killing her left her real name and her police badge number on a piece of paper on top of her body. It was like a laugh-in-your-face type of message. He was letting them know that he felt smarter and brazen enough to get away with this.
Her commander didn’t want to put J.J. in. Commander Frank Reynolds was a good friend. He was a man she trusted her life with, and he of course took on that role after she’d lost her fiancé, Anthony, to the job. His nephew, Anthony, was killed in the line of duty, during an undercover operation. The details were still shady, but there was nothing any of them could do about it. Case closed, and Anthony was dead.
J.J. swallowed hard. That had been two years ago, and she hadn’t had a relationship with any man since. She probably never would. Her life was law enforcement.
She looked around the room behind her. No one was paying her any attention right now. It seemed that whenever someone was up next to perform, they stayed clear of them. They gave them time to do their rituals or whatever they needed to do to prepare mentally for the performance. So in the downtime J.J. thought about how she’d gotten here, and how badly she wanted to solve the case and catch t
his bastard.
In her mind she thought back about the private meeting in her commander’s office. The one where FBI agents were present to ask for assistance because they needed a certain undercover female officer with a specific look, as well as capabilities.
J.J. figured not many cops had natural talent. Talent that could land them record deals, or even acting jobs. That wasn’t for J.J. Well, at least she hadn’t considered it until Anthony suggested it to her one night. They’d talked about their future, about getting married, and about her safety. She was always a bit on the wild side. Growing up watching Dirty Harry movies with her father, and even Die Hard movies, enticed her into getting involved with law enforcement. It was in her blood. Her father had died on the job, and more than likely she would, too.
She sighed as she looked out toward the crowd, taking a peek from the curtain. She wondered if the McCues were there yet. She needed to get some evidence, and find out if there was an illegal prostitution business going on, and if Marlee’s cover had been exposed because she’d confided in one of the other dancers to get information. A lot was riding on tonight.
She thought about the meeting at Commander Reynolds’s office.
“It’s a dangerous situation, J.J. I really don’t feel comfortable placing you in there, but you fit the part.” She stood there with her hands by her sides, as the other detectives and some big shot from the FBI looked her body over.
“I know. I get it,” she replied. Her large breasts, voluptuous figure, and experience with both singing and dancing set her apart from the others. But she had her own reasons for wanting this job. Marlee. She was an old friend, a fellow undercover detective working the case from the start, and the third victim to this violence. Beaten, raped, tortured, and then murdered, J.J. was out for justice, big time. She lived for shit like this. She knew she lived life on the edge after losing Anthony. It was all worth it, if she could stop the killer or killers and save some lives.