“So, how’d you end up in the FBI?”
“I knew I wanted to be more than a street cop,” I reply honestly. “Dad always said that the real criminals were the ones he could never touch, and I thought I could make a difference. So I went to college for criminal justice, and my grades and performance were good enough to catch the attention of the right people. I was given a few scholarships and cranked my way through a four-year degree in three years before reporting straight to Quantico for the FBI Academy. They broke me down and molded me the way they wanted, taught me how to go undercover, that creative problem-solving is an asset, not a rule-bending problem, and so much more. I don’t think my dad fully realized the extent of what I’d gotten into, but he knew I was an agent before he died, and he was proud of me. My mom kinda lives in denial about my job, but she’s proud too. She just can’t handle the constant anxiety when I disappear for long assignments.”
Maggie bites her lip, worry written on her face. “So, when this is all over, what will you do then? Will you leave for another assignment? Leave me behind?”
I pull her into my lap, cupping her face and laying a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose. Leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of my words as I lay my heart open for her, I look in her eyes, my voice quaking with intensity. “Angel, I honestly don’t know what happens after this. All I know is that I love you. I want to be with you, know every thought that runs through that brilliant mind of yours, watch you drink coffee ice cream for breakfast every day, and hold you while you sleep every night. I want to grow old with you, have a family with you, and claim not just your body,” I rumble as my eyes rove across her skin, peppered with my love, “but also claim your heart. Forever.”
Maggie is smiling, the hope shining in her eyes as she takes my hands and holds them in hers, almost like we’re praying together. “I want that too, Shane. God, I want that too, to be your haven when you’re protecting everyone else, to fill your heart when you’ve given more than you should, to create a life with you that you want to come back to reality for after a long time pretending to be someone else. I love you so much. I never thought something like this would happen to someone like me.”
Our words feel like vows, promises for a future we may not get. There’s no preacher, no ring, nobody to even witness them, but none of that matters. I kiss her fiercely, putting every bit of my heart and soul into the breath I give to her and demanding every bit of hers in return. Nothing less than pure honesty between us will ever be enough again.
My body responds, my cock surging inside my jeans as we part lips, panting, and I want to slip inside her sweet pussy once again, be one with her.
But I need to be inside her mind even more, know everything there is to know about my sweet Maggie, so I still her squirming hips, holding her tightly against my thickening cock. “Tell me, Angel. What did you think would happen to someone like you? What did little Maggie Postland think her life would be like?”
She smiles softly, suddenly shy. “Don’t laugh, okay?”
My face is calm, more curious than anything, and after she’s sure I’m listening, she continues. “I wanted to be Barbara Walters. She’s like this spitfire you don’t expect. Early in her career, she was seen as this blonde woman who couldn’t possibly do a man’s job and interview these powerful leaders. But she did, and she used her charm to get insights no one else could, without selling herself short. Nobody imagined she’d accomplish so much, but she never doubted her ability to get the scoop, verbally wiggling and manipulating her way into the interview of the decade, all the while making it seem like it was just a friendly chat. And it gave little me, blonde, sweet, kinda nerdy little Maggie hope that I could do that someday and make a difference.”
I take a moment, studying her face before nodding. “I can see it, Interviews by Maggie Postland. You sitting in a chair, sipping coffee, and smiling that sweet smile. Maybe not Barbara style, but more like Oprah, maybe, or like one of the late-night hosts?”
“But more serious,” Maggie says, and I nod.
“Right. The people you interview would never see it coming until you hit them like a fucking heat-seeking missile and started asking the tough questions. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even know they’d spilled government secrets until it was too late, mesmerized by your sweet girl goodness.”
Maggie lays two fingers over my lips and then lifts them high, blowing a puff of air across her fingertips. “From your lips to the universe’s ears.”
I smile, knowing that she’s being silly but at the same time, very serious. “What about now? What about your job?”
Maggie scrunches her nose up like a bunny before making a disgusted sound. “Ugh. I’m pretty sure that I’m fired by now. My boss is strict and demanding, and considering I haven’t submitted a story in over a week and haven’t even called into the office in days, she’ll have already started paperwork to fire me. And I’m guessing Dominick won’t let me wait tables here anymore, so currently, I’m unemployed.”
“And how does that feel?” I ask because she doesn’t seem all that upset, which surprises me because I’ve seen how hard this girl works. If someone could figure out a way to generate electricity from her, she could power half the city.
Maggie grins, sighing happily. “Honestly, I feel free. You have to understand. The Daily Spot isn’t like working for CNN or even TMZ. Sure, it was a job, but everyone there—well, nearly everyone—was either trying to scramble their way up the ladder or was bitterly hanging on so they didn’t fall down to Weekly World News level. It was dog-eat-dog, and not even about important things. Just an overarching sense of desperation and disrespect. And here with you, even though we’re basically being held hostage and everything’s going to hell right now . . . I feel free.”
She smiles, and I’m struck stupid once again at her beauty. I don’t know how, or why, but I do think I’ve freed her of something she’s been carrying around for a very long time. Although I bet if I were to dig deep enough, I’d find out that all I did was help her free herself.
From there, we spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the night talking about our lives, our hopes and dreams, books, TV, and everything in between. It’s like we’re taking our courtship, the little things that most people learn over the course of weeks or even months of dating, and compressing them into a hyper-speed conversation.
But I don’t feel rushed at all. Instead, with every revelation from the mundane to the philosophical, I fall deeper in love with this girl, storing away every tidbit she gives me in my heart.
The heat builds between us, embers always burning just below the surface but spark-flashing into flames, and we pause our conversation to make love or fuck, sometimes both. The pulsing music from the club below occasionally gives us a new tempo to match, leaving us both laughing at times afterward.
With Maggie, even when I’m slamming into her from behind, her hair wrapped in my fist as she cries out, her ass pink from my hand and my marks all over her smooth skin . . . even then, it’s a hundred percent love.
Finally, we fall into bed together, happily exhausted.
“Well, at least we’ve done one thing right,” Maggie says as she giggles and lays a naked thigh across my leg.
“What’s that?” I ask. “I think we’ve done a lot of things right today.”
“Oh, no doubt. But what I meant was that everyone goes to a strip club to indulge in a sexual fantasy, but it’s only that, a fantasy. We get to do the real thing.”
“Good point. Now we just need to get a pole up here and—”
Maggie tickles me in the ribs, making me laugh. “And I’ll make you dance for me!”
I don’t answer, but the reality is if she asked, I damn well might do it.
Chapter 23
Maggie
By late that night, or technically early the next morning, Shane and I finally lift our heads from being lost in each other and the hopes that there’s any way this is going to be okay.
O
kay, okay . . . we lift our heads from a nap, but as I told Shane, I’m unemployed.
Soon after the club closes, we carefully head downstairs, as Shane says he wants to check in with Dominick. I sneak backstage and find Allie alone in the locker room.
She’s dressed in her silky robe, sitting at a mirrored table to remove the layers of makeup she wears for the stage. “Hey, Allie. How was the show tonight?”
She looks up, meeting my eyes in the mirror, and I can tell she’s still mad. Guess I can understand. I mean, I did drop a grenade into the middle of her world.
“No, don’t do that,” Allie replies, barbs in every word that sting as they hit my eardrums. “Don’t ask me shit like how my dancing went or how my night was. Like you care when your whole gig here was fake.”
Ouch. I step into the dressing room, really trying. Allie’s important to me. “I do care. And it wasn’t all fake. Yeah, the job, calling myself Meghan . . . but I meant what I said about feeling like I belonged here and that I found a family.”
Allie snorts, her eyes glued to the mirror as she peels her fake lashes off. “I don’t know if I should believe that. I mean, you’re obviously a good liar, so how can I ever believe what you say?”
I sigh, hugging myself and knowing she’s got a point. “You’re right, but I swear, Allie. You’re one of my best friends, not just in this life,” I say, indicating the club around us, “but in my whole life. You think I didn’t want to let you in all the way? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth and that it hurt you.”
Allie finally turns around to face me. “This is some really fucked up shit you’ve gotten me into. I didn’t know all that stuff from yesterday.”
My eyebrows jump as my jaw drops, and I try to keep my voice to a whisper. “You didn’t know about Dominick, about the mob?”
Allie shakes her head, whispering back just in case we’re overheard. “No! I mean, I knew Dom was a bigwig, but I thought it was just . . . here, as the owner of a fancy strip club. I didn’t know he was big, like in charge of the city. Who wants to work in a mob-owned strip club?”
I nod, knowing that especially with Allie’s background, that’s the last place she ever imagined she’d end up. “So, what happened?”
Allie turns back to her table and starts working on her makeup again. “That guy’s blood was all over me. Dominick carried me into his office and helped me get cleaned up. He was furious, the anger buzzing around him like a force field, but he was gentle with me. Tucked me in on the couch in his office and went out to talk to the guys.”
“That was about the time Shane was hustling me out of the club,” I reply. “He was so worried about me. Looking back, it was touching.”
Allie finally gives me a ghost of a smile, looking into the mirror. “I bet. I don’t know what Dom told the guys. I guess I just avoided thinking about it because I was in shock. He gave me a couple of days off, even offered to let me stay upstairs in the apartment you’re in, but I just wanted to go home and hide in my own bed, you know? So he drove me there himself and came by morning and night to make sure I ate and was okay. He took care of me, and when he wasn’t there, Nick or Logan was downstairs, making sure I was safe. And then you called with the whole meeting thing, and he said he needed me to be there, for him and for you. And the three of you just sat there and spouted off all this big scary shit like it was normal conversation.”
I realize that while everyone always teases me about my innocence, this time, it’s Allie whose bubble of innocence was burst. “I’m sorry you found out like that. I didn’t know what you knew, but we needed you there because we thought Dominick wouldn’t hurt us in front of you.”
Allie smiles sadly, turning around to face me. “You used me. I figured out that part, at least, and I guess I can see why. I just wish I could go back to being blind to all of this around me. I mean, Dominick’s a great guy who’s been taking care of me, a good boss who makes it feel safe here, considering it’s a strip club. But now, I’m just . . . lost.”
Her words break my heart, and I step closer, putting my hands on her shoulders. “You’re not lost, Allie. Nothing here has changed. You’re still you, Dominick is still Dominick, and I’m still me. Now, the veil is just lifted and you’re seeing behind the curtain a bit. It’s shocking, but it’s better to know the truth, even if it’s ugly, than a pretty lie.”
Allie puts a hand over mine and looks over her shoulder. “That’s me, the pretty tragedy. Don’t worry, I’m just still adjusting. I don’t know what to think about all of this. Tonight was the first night I’ve performed since the shooting. I was just in total mind dump mode, not thinking at all. Although I practiced so much at home that I finally got that spinning death-drop move perfected. It was flawless.”
I grin, even as her eyebrows pull together. “I might need to rename the move though. Seems a bit dark, considering what’s been happening.”
I rub her shoulders gently. “Call it whatever you want. Allie, what’s awesome about you is how even in the deepest of valleys, you’ve never given up. You keep working until you find a hilltop, and that’s where you make your stand for the next journey. You sort of helped me, too. So many times over the past couple of months, I kept telling myself, ‘be like Allie. She’d keep going.’ And it was true.”
Allie takes a deep breath, nodding. “I like that. So . . . Shane? Is that where you’re standing for your next journey?”
I smile, feeling the mood shift to some semblance of before, when we’d dish about how hot the security guys are and lament Dominick’s no-fraternizing policy. Even as she cheered me on, she also thought it’d never happen. Guess we were both wrong.
Grabbing a chair, I sit down next to her, grinning foolishly as she raises an eyebrow. “What can I say except . . . he’s amazing, even better than what you used to tease me about. The last few days have been scary, especially when we had to explain the huge web of lies and get everything untangled. But he’s been there for me, kept me safe.”
I sigh, not fully able to put into words everything I feel about Shane.
But Allie seems to understand, grinning mischievously. “I can see he’s been there . . . and there, and oh, over there too, twice, by the looks of it,” she says cheekily as she indicates the various marks visible on my body. “Is there any part of you he hasn’t been?”
I blush furiously, proud of Shane’s claiming of me but feeling shy that she’s pointing them out so . . . individually. “Yeah, he’s a little . . . mouthy . . . and possessive. I, uh . . . I like it.”
I can feel my face burning even brighter, and Allie smiles.
“Well, that’s what matters. And good God, a mouthy man. Bet he gives the best oral! Lucky girl.”
She winks at me, and things feel like they’re okay, or at least like they might be okay someday. “Hey, you wanna see my spinning death-drop?”
Eager to get the focus off me and Shane and our bedroom activities, I nod. “Yes! Let me see, girl! But only if you’re not too tired after your performances tonight.”
“Never too tired for you,” Allie replies with a snort. “I could use a few more practice spins too. Come on!”
We go onto the floor, where everyone but Marco has already left, and Allie takes her place on stage while I sit at the front row center table. In the background, I can hear Marco working downstairs, probably still cleaning up.
She does a few warmups, and within minutes, she’s twirling around the pole, high above the stage floor. There’s no music, so it has a different feel. Gone is the sexy sway. It’s just the quiet intensity and small grunts as Allie works the pole. No wonder they do pole dance fitness classes.
Allie does some kick trick that I couldn’t describe even if I tried because it happens so fast, my brain can’t even register it. All I see is her stilettoed foot kick out, and then Allie is speeding upside down toward the floor in a spiral with her arms spread wide in a T, and I gasp. “Allie!”
Right before her head smacks into the stage, she gra
bs the pole and rolls it along her shoulder, her legs straddling open for a moment before she settles to the floor in the splits.
As if she didn’t just cheat death and defy gravity, she pulls her feet back under and rises gracefully. “So, what do you think?”
My mouth is still hanging wide open, but I manage to yell out, “Mother trucking smurfin’ yeah, biz-nitch!” as I clap loudly. “You’re my hero!”
Allie smiles, and I can see the pride on her face, even as she downplays it. “Yeah, it’s not ballet, for damn sure, but it sure is fun!”
From the side of the stage, I hear a door open and close, and both our eyes snap that direction. But it’s only Marco coming up from the stockroom, boxes of beer in his hands.
He sees me and immediately sets them down. “Holy fuck, Meghan! Where have you been? You okay?”
I run over and give him a hug, and Allie joins in. The three of us hug like it’s been years instead of days, and even though Marco called me by the wrong name, I feel at home.
It doesn’t matter that it’s a strip club or that there’s more to the story than we planned.
I’m home with these people.
Guess Shane’s right. There is a bit of bad girl inside me.
Chapter 24
Shane
I stand on Dominick’s left, Nick to the right as we knock once on the door of the large brownstone near downtown. That we’re even here is just shy of batshit crazy, but it’s Dom’s show. I’m just the muscle who may or may not have to pull out his FBI badge along with a gun at some point.
Dirty Deeds Page 18
