Sinful Intent

by Chelle Bliss

  I closed her file and stood. “I want to get working right away.”

  “Then let’s get you settled,” he said as he rose from his chair and walked around the desk. As he slapped me on the back, he said, “Welcome to the team, Morgan.”

  “It’s good to be part of something again.”

  * * *

  “Ms. True please,” I said to the woman on the other end of the line.

  “This is she. With whom am I speaking?” she asked in the sexiest Southern voice I’d ever heard.

  “Morgan DeLuca from ALFA PI. I was given your case, ma’am.”

  She hissed loud enough for it to catch me off guard. “I hate being called that.”

  I made a quick mental note not to make that mistake again. “Sorry,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just trying to be polite, Ms. True.”

  “It’s fine.” She sighed. “So, you’re my guy?”

  “Yes. I’d like to schedule a meeting to discuss the details you left off your questionnaire.”

  “Ah. If you’re going to be working for me, then I’ll share them with you, but no one else.”

  “That’s fine.” I tapped the pencil against my desktop. “When are you available?”

  “I can meet you tomorrow for lunch. Let’s say noon at the Blue Martini. Do you know where that is?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I lied. “I’ll be there at noon.” I’d lived here for a total of ninety-six hours, but I’d find it without trouble.

  “Mr. DeLuca.” She cleared her throat. “Please be prompt. I don’t have time to waste waiting around for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied before hanging up. I grimaced, knowing she’d probably cursed me because I’d called her that again.

  I leaned back in my chair, taking in my new digs. The walls matched the gray ones in the waiting room. On the opposite wall from my desk there was a modern black leather couch, and two chairs were immediately in front of my desk.

  My eyes stung from the endless hours of staring at a computer, trying to learn the new programs. I climbed to my feet and stretched before I grabbed my keys. I looked around my office, finally letting it sink in. I had a new purpose and could start a brand-new life. Wanting to say goodbye to Thomas, I headed to his office before leaving.

  “Hey,” I said as I opened the door. I froze, seeing more than I expected.

  Thomas had Angel bent over the desk with her skirt pulled up and was banging the hell out of her.

  Their eyes met mine as I stood in the doorway, unable to move. “Sorry,” I said, finally finding my footing and taking a step backward. I closed the door and took a deep breath. “Fuck,” I muttered as I looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll be back later!” I yelled.

  “Take the afternoon off!” Thomas yelled back.

  “Thanks.” I had to look like a kid who’d walked in on his parents.

  Since I was diving right into work, I figured I’d better get my ass home, my car unpacked, and settle in.

  I planned to be there for a very long time.

  Chapter Five

  Hottie in Heels

  Morgan

  I overslept and missed my workout. I had to haul ass to make it on time to the Blue Martini. I texted Thomas in the morning, still slightly embarrassed, and told him I’d be in the office after my meeting with Ms. True.

  Walking toward the restaurant, I peered down at my clothes, feeling out of place. While the rest of the crowd was wearing suits and business casual, I had my usual jeans and T-shirt on.

  I stood in the doorway, surveying the bar and trying to pick Ms. True out of the crowd.

  A woman peered up from her phone and looked back down.

  Whoever she was, she was fucking gorgeous. She sat there with her spine straight, blond hair in a perfect bun, and a crisp black dress shirt tucked into a gray pencil skirt. Her high cheekbones almost kissed her deep-green eyes.

  I wanted to saunter up to her, ask her for her number, and beg that on our first date she wear the red stilettos she had on, which made my cock instantly hard.

  She glanced up, caught me staring, and waved me over.

  Well, hell. Maybe she wanted my number too.

  Keep calm and act natural.

  Her eyes remained down, concentrating on her phone, as I approached.

  “Mr. DeLuca, I presume,” she said, glancing up for a moment, her emerald eyes flickering. “Take a seat.”

  Disappointment flooded me. The beautiful creature in front of me wasn’t calling me over to get my number. She was my new client.

  “Ms. True?” I asked, letting my eyes linger on her legs for a little too long but not caring.

  “Yes,” she said, still not making eye contact.

  I grabbed the small pad of paper and pen I’d jammed in my back pocket and tossed them on the bar. “I hope you don’t mind if I take notes,” I told her, trying not to stare at her legs.

  “I do, actually,” she said as she dropped the phone in her purse, pinning me with her fierce, green eyes. “I’d prefer if you remember everything I tell you. I don’t want a paper trail.”

  The look on my face had to be one of total confusion, because she added, “I don’t want anything possibly getting into the wrong hands.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Let’s order and then we’ll talk,” she said as she snapped her fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Do you know what you want?”

  “Yeah. I come here all the time,” I lied.

  When the waitress approached, Race placed her order filled with special requests. She didn’t like tomatoes but wanted extra cheese and only wanted grilled chicken.

  I learned within five minutes that Race True wasn’t easy. She seemed uptight, controlled, and unwilling to bend.

  “And you, sir?” the beautiful bartender asked.

  “Just a water, please.”

  “That’s it? No giant, sloppy burger?” Ms. True asked, blinking rapidly.

  “That’s it,” I said, glancing between them.

  Race shrugged and waited for the bartender to reach the far end of the bar before she started to speak. “I thought I’d buy you lunch while we talked.”

  “I’d rather keep this strictly professional, Ms. True.”

  Lie number three.

  I did want to be professional, but sitting here and staring at her had my mind going a million different ways, and most of them were sexual.

  Fuck. I needed to get laid or everything could derail in a hurry. Why couldn’t she have been unattractive? As I watched her, I wanted to know if she was as difficult to please in bed as she was at having a simple meal. I wondered if she screamed when she was fucked or what her hair looked like when her bun was taken down.

  Race had pouty red lips, the whitest teeth I’d ever seen on a human being other than movie stars, and eyes the shade of emeralds. She was average size, with fabulous tits that peeked out from the neckline of her blouse and drew my attention. The pencil skirt accentuated her hips and made her legs seem a mile long.

  “So, Morgan. Tell me a little bit about your background before I tell you about my problem. I want to know that you’re the right man for the job.” She sipped her wine, keeping her green eyes pinned on me.

  It wasn’t going to be easy to keep my thoughts from straying from the purpose of the meeting. Hopefully, our contact would be minimal and mainly over the phone so I wouldn’t have to risk a slap in the face from gawking at her tits.

  “I recently left the army after serving eight years. I worked the last four years gathering intel for the troops on the battlefield.”

  “Oh,” she interrupted, placing the glass on the bar and resting her hand near mine. “That’s impressive.”

  “Not really, ma’am.”

  She stiffened and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “Sorry. It’s a military thing. Everyone is a ma’am or a sir. It has nothing to do with me thinking you’re anything like your grandmother, but I’m sure she’s a lovely woman.”

&n
bsp; “She’s a conniving hag. I’m nothing like her.”

  It was my turn to say, “Oh.”

  “Continue,” she demanded as she grabbed her glass again, averting her eyes.

  “I became a civilian again about a month ago.”

  “What makes Mr. Gallo so sure you’re the right man for the job?” she questioned, eyeing me with speculation.

  I turned to face her, resting my arm on the bar. I didn’t like that I had to defend my qualifications to her. “Listen, Ms. True. If you’re not comfortable with me working your case, I can ask for someone else to be assigned to you. Right now, we don’t have the manpower for another investigator to take over right away. If you’re willing to wait, I’m sure we can find you a more suitable replacement. Someone more to your…liking. But no one will work as hard as I will.”

  “No!” she said, her voice louder than before. “I just need to have someone work on this case who knows their shit. I can’t have some hack trying to clear my good name and fuck shit up.” Her jaw clenched as she pinned me with her stare.

  My dick twitched—honest to God, moved inside my pants from her filthy mouth.

  “As long as you can promise me that you have the skills I need to find out who’s behind this, then you’re my guy,” she said as she placed her hand on my arm.

  I smirked, feeling a bit playful. “I have the skills you desire.” I glanced down, feeling the coolness of her touch on my warm skin. “I’m your man. I have more training in intelligence gathering than anyone else in my office. I was trained by the best the military had to offer. I have no doubt I’ll find the perpetrator.”

  She nodded, brushing her fingertips across my skin before removing her hand slowly. “Fine. I’m sorry if I came off bitchy there for a moment. I know you’re new. You weren’t there when I went to the office to seek help. I just want to make sure I don’t have the newbie who’s learning on the job.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about what’s going on? Your file lacked anything to help me start identifying my plan of attack. I promise you this, Ms. True: I’ll give your case my full attention and the utmost privacy.”

  She glanced around the bar, checking our surroundings. “The messages started about a year ago. First they were just strange. You know, the type you delete and forget about.” She waved her hands in the air near her shoulder. “But then,” she whispered as her eyes grew large, “then the person started mentioning personal stuff that only someone I knew would know.”

  “Like what type of details?”

  “I wasn’t always this put-together lady you see in front of you today,” she explained, fidgeting with her hands. “I made questionable decisions in college.”

  “That’s part of the college experience,” I said in a soothing tone. “You were a normal kid. Do you know anyone from college who would want to cause you harm?” I asked as I tapped the pen against the paper, wishing I could take notes.

  She shook her head, slowly bringing her eyes to mine. “Not that I can think of, but obviously, there’s someone.” She said the last word with a look that let me know she thought I wasn’t the brightest light bulb in the fixture.

  “I promise I’ll find the person,” I said, dropping the pen on the paper. “I’ll need access to your e-mail or any other means of communication they’ve used to reach you. Also, I’ll need you to make a list of your known associates from college.”

  “I don’t know,” she said as her eyes shifted.

  “Listen, Ms. True. The only thing that matters to me is solving your case and having you walk away satisfied.”

  She stared at me as her lips parted.

  I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat. “A satisfied customer. That’s what I meant.” I settled back in my chair and smirked.

  She swallowed hard as her eyes dipped to my hands. “Fine, Morgan.”

  Not only did her attitude ooze from her body, it slipped from her lips like it was part of her. There wasn’t one piece of her that didn’t exude class or social status. I was the grunt in this situation, and she didn’t let that fact slide.

  “I’ll gather the information for you and have it delivered to your office,” Race said as she looked back up at the motion of the approaching server.

  The bartender placed Race’s meal in front of her and asked if I wanted anything, but I waved her off.

  “If you trust someone enough to bring it on your behalf,” I said as I stood, not letting her off the hook so easily.

  “Fuck,” she whispered. “I don’t. I’ll bring it to your office in a day or so. Where are you going?” she asked, pressing her lips together.

  “I gotta get back to the office. You enjoy your lunch, Ms. True.” I threw enough to cover the bill on the bar. “I look forward to working with you.”

  “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Mr. DeLuca, but I’m more than capable of paying for my own lunch.”

  Jesus, she was a stubborn.

  “I know, but I got it.” I didn’t add anything else as I started to stride away. “See you in a couple of days, Race,” I said over my shoulder, taking in her beauty one more time.

  Race True was used to getting her way.

  I’d take every chance to remind her that I was in charge of this investigation. I might have been working on her behalf, but shit was going to go down the way I wanted it to go.

  If I failed, her life could be ruined and I could be out of a job before I’d even started.

  Chapter Six

  Secrets

  Race

  For two days, I thought about nothing but him.

  Morgan DeLuca was a cocky son of a bitch, but there was something about him that had me fantasizing about him.

  He was a bossy prick. I knew the type from working in the corporate world, but Morgan had a kindness in his eyes.

  I couldn’t forget his face. His distinctive features would be forever etched in my brain.

  I don’t mean just a guy I’d give a second look to when walking by.

  He had the package.

  Strong, chiseled face lined with dark stubble. Lips so full that I’d feel them long after a kiss had ended. Muscles that bulged from places that shouldn’t be legal. And eyes so blue that I could get lost in them for hours.

  Oh, seriously.

  I needed to get a fucking grip. It wasn’t like it had been that long since I’d had sex.

  Had it?

  I’d been too busy trying to climb the corporate ladder to even bother with any type of relationship. Plus, the men I worked with just didn’t do it for me. I liked them rough around the edges with a hint of beautiful underneath.

  Like Morgan.

  I walked into his office two days later with an envelope filled with possible suspects, copies of the emails, and other information I thought he needed.

  Their receptionist spoke on the phone as I tapped my fingernails against the desk, waiting for her.

  She kept holding up her finger. I looked at my watch, wondering how long I’d have to stand here.

  She was a pretty little thing with long red hair that flowed over her shoulders. I hadn’t paid much attention to her when I had been there the first time. Maybe she was Morgan’s type—pretty and perky, with a natural beauty and casual attire.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Can I help you?” she asked as she hung up the phone.

  I righted myself, trying not to feel a pang of jealousy. “I’m here to see Mr. DeLuca.”

  “And you are?” she asked as her eyes raked over my upper body.

  Oh my God. Was she checking me out like I was her?

  “Ms. True,” I said with an overly sweet voice.

  She pushed back from the desk, popped up from her seat, and left me alone in the waiting room.

  Moments later, she returned with Morgan following close behind her.

  “Ah, Race.”

  “Ms. True,” I corrected him, pushing my shoulder back.

  His eyes dropped to my chest as he smirked. “Let’s talk in my office where it’s
more private.”

  I followed him to his office, staring at his ass as we walked. When he held the door open, he barely left me enough space to pass by without touching him.

  My shoulder brushed against his and his scent hit me. I closed my eyes, taking in the rich cologne he was wearing, trying to memorize it.

  “Please sit,” he said as he pushed the door closed with his body.

  I fidgeted with the envelope as he sat across from me, leaning back in his chair. He looked handsome today, but the stubble on his jaw had disappeared.

  Pity, really, because I liked how it had looked.

  He placed his hands flat on the desk as he sat. “What did you bring for me?”

  I blinked twice, clearing my mind before I tossed the envelope on the desk, not trusting my voice.

  He glanced down. “Did you bring everything I told you to?” he asked, eyeing me.

  “Yes. It’s my e-mails, including the first message I received. I erased it right after I printed it,” I said, feeling foolish, tugging on the edge of my skirt.

  “Why don’t you tell me what it says?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he held the envelope without opening it.

  I grimaced, squirming in my seat. “It’s embarrassing, Mr. DeLuca.”

  “I don’t care what it is. I’m not here to judge you. It would help if I knew what the real issue is. What the hell does this person have on you that is freaking you out so bad?”

  Covering my face with my hands, I dug my index fingers into the corners of my eyes. “Oh God,” I whispered, trying to breathe through my nose.

  “I promise not to laugh,” he said in a steady, calm voice.

  “I wish it were funny,” I mumbled as my stomach started to knot and my eyes met his.

  “Did you sell drugs?” The side of his jaw ticked.

  I blinked rapidly at him. “Are you kidding me?”

  He shrugged. “No. I’m just trying to come up with what the hell it could possibly be.” He rubbed his chin, studying me. “Did you cheat?”

  “No.” I shook my head, absently stroking my throat.