Re/Paired

by Michele Zurlo

  Keith didn’t see why he couldn’t, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “And I know you. After a week of no sex, you get bitchy. I’m surprised you’re not ripping my head off right now.”

  This time he shrugged. “Kat is more important than sex.” Then he changed the subject. “So what was up with that text from Darcy earlier? The girls wanted to flog one another instead of watch a movie?”

  Malcolm’s mouth opened and closed while his brow pinched in confusion. Finally he shook his head in resignation. “Apparently Amy and Trina want to learn to use the floggers. She wanted to let them practice on her. I said no because she’s pregnant. One misplaced hit could cause problems.”

  “Not to mention that you should learn control and try it on yourself before you try it on another person.” Keith strived for an extra dry tone, but he honestly didn’t know what to think. Kat wanted to learn to wield a flogger? Why hadn’t she said anything to him? They were going to have a talk very soon.

  The last hour of their shift was uneventful, right up until the final five minutes. Keith noticed someone sneaking from the apartment building through a ground-floor window. He had the same height and build as their target, but Keith couldn’t get a clear view of the face.

  “Mal, we have movement. First floor, four windows from the left. He’s wearing pants that are too small.”

  Malcolm leaned closer to the monitor screen. “That’s giving skinny jeans a whole new meaning. Look up, fashion victim. Come on, let us see your face. Damn. Now his back is to us.”

  Neither of them wanted to move the van. This close to dawn, people in the neighborhood would assume it was vacant. When the target made it to the corner, he looked back long enough for them to make him.

  “That’s Rick. We need to follow the bastard.”

  As they watched, Rick Friedman got into a black Audi and drove away. Malcolm followed, leaving a good amount of distance between them. This early on a Sunday morning, there wasn’t much traffic around to provide camouflage.

  Keith radioed in to update their status. They followed Friedman to a quiet street in an older neighborhood. The houses, though small, had been kept up nicely. Friedman’s car stopped across the street from the one run-down place on the entire block. Malcolm drove around the block and parked on a cross street that afforded them a view.

  A tall man with a slim build got into the passenger side. He wore dark clothes and a hoodie, making it impossible to see what he looked like.

  “I hate those fucking things.” Malcolm leaned across the seat for a better look, crowding into Keith.

  Keith rolled down the window and propped a night-vision camera on the edge. He snapped a series of pictures, zooming in as far as the technology would allow. “Personal space, dude. You look like you’re about to give me a handjob.”

  “You wish.” Malcolm didn’t move. “I was right about you needing to get laid. Take today off. I’ll keep Trina at my house.”

  Keith pushed Malcolm back and continued taking photos. The two men concluded their conversation, and the one in the hoodie got out. Keith adjusted his aim to try to capture this new player’s face. Hoodie Man got into another vehicle, and both cars drove off.

  “Go down that street. Get an address on the house Hoodie Man came out of.”

  Malcolm followed Keith’s order without comment. Keith radioed Jordan and Dustin, both of whom were supposed to relieve them of their watch, and put them on Friedman’s tail. Another pair of agents tailed Hoodie Man. This could end up being a break in the case, or it could just be another night of cat and mouse. None of them would know until it was all over.

  * * * *

  Keith didn’t end up having a chance to see Kat until Sunday evening. After checking the surveillance footage at her condo, he and Mal had crashed at Keith’s house, not waking until nearly noon when they both were called in for a strategy session. Hoodie Man had lost his tail, and Dustin had reported nothing happening after he and Jordan tracked Friedman back to his house. Kat had texted him to say she’d left for home, but not to worry because she wouldn’t be there alone.

  He’d breathed a sigh of relief. If neither he nor Mal could be there, at least she would have her parents for protection. Papa L might be nearing his seventies, but the man was still formidable.

  The strategy session had been taxing. Not only were they under pressure to make sure the Snyder case didn’t unravel in the face of this new information about the Friedmans’ involvement, but they now had a renewed focus on Katrina’s case. The address that Friedman had led them to had turned out to belong to Erin Buttermore. From the general build of Hoodie Man, he could very well have been Aaron Buttermore, Kat’s work friend.

  At that pronouncement, Dustin had straightened in his chair and informed them about some files that Aaron had given to Kat, saying that she’d forgotten them on her desk. She’d told Dustin that the files weren’t hers.

  Then Jordan had let them know that someone was forging Kat’s signature in the evidence logs, and that some of that evidence had eventually gone missing. It looked like someone—probably Aaron—was setting up Kat to take a pretty hard fall.

  But they lacked hard evidence. Keith and Dustin had officially been charged with keeping a close eye on her. Jordan was to follow up with Buttermore. He’d already met with Chief Alder about the issue.

  Afterward, Keith and Malcolm sat in Kat’s parking lot, watching to see who came and went in the areas blocked from the cameras. Keith wanted to go in and sweep Kat off her feet. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning when she’d refused to let him drive her to Darcy’s house.

  “Nothing’s happening here either.” Malcolm rubbed his eyes. “God, I’m tired. I have a bad feeling about this case. I know the Friedmans are up to no good, but I don’t know what the hell they’re doing with Buttermore. The guy’s always struck me as somewhat of a dumbass.”

  Keith tapped his thigh impatiently. “Let’s go inside. I’m hungry. Kat has to have dinner made by now.”

  Malcolm grinned as he reached for the latch to open the door. “Now I know why you don’t mind hanging out with her so much. She is a pretty good cook.”

  Keith did his fair share of meal preparation, but once again he didn’t say anything. Instead he called Kat to let her know they were both coming up. She answered the door wearing shorts, a loose shirt that she’d tied at one hip, and a weary smile. He felt like he had been away from home for far too long. He wanted to take her in his arms and just hold her, but they hadn’t disclosed anything to Malcolm yet.

  “Hi, guys. Come on up.”

  After securing the door, he followed Malcolm up the stairs to find nobody there. He wanted to ask, but Malcolm beat him to it.

  “Where are Mom and Dad?”

  Kat frowned at her brother. “At home? I don’t know.”

  “Weren’t they here?”

  Keith did a visual sweep of the room, as did Malcolm. He spotted a strange briefcase and a laptop that wasn’t Kat’s. “You said you had company. We assumed your parents were going to be here.”

  “Oh.” She went to the sink and poured a glass of water. “No. Aaron came over. We’ve been working all day.”

  “Where is he?” Malcolm peered down the hall.

  “Bathroom. Want something to drink? I lost track of time, so I haven’t made dinner. I was going to order out.” She breathed that out in one huff and then downed her water.

  “Water, thanks. I’m going to use the bathroom in your room.” With that, Mal disappeared down the hall. Keith knew he was going to scope out the rest of the place. Keith’s job was to keep Kat distracted. She didn’t need to know they suspected Buttermore of collusion and tampering, or that they thought he was setting it up to make it look like she was the guilty party.

  Keith closed the distance as soon as Malcolm was out of sight. He pulled her close and inhaled the scent of her hair. “You will explain your interest in learning to use a flogger as soon as they’re gone.”

  S
he pushed against him and tilted her head back. “Did you have a nice time with Malcolm?” Her grin suggested that she knew he was going insane with curiosity. “Did you clean your guns and watch a karate movie?”

  He couldn’t help it, so he leaned down and planted a kiss on her inviting lips. It was a promise, nothing more. It couldn’t be. He heard a noise in the hall that indicated somebody was coming. Reluctantly he released her just in time for Aaron to come into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Agent Rossetti. How’s it going?” Aaron held out his hand, and Keith shook it.

  “Not bad. I hear you’ve been pressed into service cleaning out your parents’ basement.” He gave Aaron his best impression of a warm smile, which Mal had warned him wasn’t much friendlier than his usual demeanor. Given the man’s recent suspected activities, Keith congratulated himself for not responding with violence.

  Aaron’s expression tightened. “It’s just my mom. My dad took off when I was little. I don’t remember him at all. She’s getting older now and can’t navigate the stairs. I’m trying to convince her to get her hip replaced.”

  Since they’d profiled Aaron that afternoon, Keith already knew everything about Aaron’s background that was part of his record. He used the opportunity to dig for information. “So you were over there cleaning last night? How long did that take you?”

  Aaron frowned. “I didn’t keep track. Not too late. Mom goes to bed early. Emphysema wipes her out.”

  Keith wanted to ask more questions, but he couldn’t come off sounding like he was interrogating a witness. If Buttermore was working with the Friedman brothers, then he might not be as inept as he appeared.

  Kat smiled indulgently. “Aaron went back over this morning to chip away at the mess, and then he came over to work with me after lunchtime. I was just about to call for carryout, Aaron. Did you want to look over a menu? I still owe you a meal.”

  Keith fervently hoped Aaron would refuse, and his wish was granted.

  Aaron shook his head. “No, thanks. Your bodyguards are here now, so I was going to head out. I think we’re in pretty good shape for next week’s cases.” He gathered up his things, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

  “All right. Thanks for coming over, and I’m so sorry about yesterday.” Kat hugged Aaron and saw him to the door.

  Keith sent a text to Jordan and moved so that he could listen in on Kat and Aaron. His position put him seconds away if Buttermore should try anything physical. It didn’t seem likely. If he was setting her up professionally, then he wouldn’t risk doing anything that would tip her off or sour their personal relationship. He needed her trust in order to keep screwing her over.

  Malcolm came strolling down the hall, a pensive expression on his face. “Bath and bedrooms are clear.” He looked around. “Where’s Trina?”

  Inclining his head toward the stairs, Keith whispered, “Seeing Aaron out.”

  Mal stepped closer, his eyes scanning the open living and dining areas. “I found men’s briefs in her laundry. Last night, Darcy showed her how to use a flogger. I think Trina has a boyfriend. How the hell is she sneaking him past you?”

  Ever the thorough agent, of course Mal had checked the laundry. He’d probably also gone through her drawers, not that he’d tell her he had invaded her privacy in the name of keeping her safe.

  “She’s not.” Keith needed to talk to Kat. Darcy’s deadline was looming closer, and he almost couldn’t wait for it to arrive. “I’ve been here a lot, so she’s been doing my clothes.” He took his suits to the dry cleaner, which left his shirts, socks, and underwear. Kat had washed colors yesterday, and he’d promised to see to the whites today.

  Malcolm mulled this over. “That aside, it occurs to me that her stalker could be strictly a personal thing. Maybe she turned down somebody recently who is having trouble taking no for an answer?”

  “I don’t get asked out nearly as often as you seem to think.” Kat gave Mal a lopsided smile as she came up the stairs. “I’ve been turned down recently, but that’s the extent of it.”

  Mal considered his sister affectionately. “Whoever turned you down is stupid, so it’s better to just move on to someone intelligent enough to appreciate you.”

  Kat placed a kiss on her brother’s cheek. “You’re so sweet. Are you staying for dinner? I was going to order out.”

  “No.” He smiled regretfully. “I’m going to leave you here with Keith. I haven’t seen my wife-to-be since yesterday morning.” He hugged Kat.

  Keith hated the position in which he found himself. On one hand, he was lying to Malcolm about Katrina. From the other side of his mouth, he was keeping information from Kat about a man she considered a close friend. No matter how he sliced it, he was lying to the two people who meant the world to him.

  He inched toward the stairwell. “I’ll walk you out.” Mostly he wanted to double-check the locks to make sure they were properly engaged. He trusted that Kat knew how to work her locks, but having visual confirmation would set his mind at ease.

  When they got to the front walkway, Malcolm reached up to adjust a camera that had been nudged a little out of place. “You’re right about her hiding the way this is affecting her. She’s all jittery, talking fast, and looking a little flushed.” Then his eyes widened. “Maybe she has a thing for Buttermore? Her taste has always run to men she thinks she can change for the better.” He shook his head. “It’s going to break her heart to find out what a noxious ass he is.”

  Sometimes Mal’s conclusions were plain wrong, and sometimes they were close and still missed the mark. Keith coughed. “You think she has a thing for Buttermore? She’s been friends with him for years, and nothing’s happened. Plus, her taste isn’t that bad.” Only he could appreciate the irony of his statement. He was glad Kat was upstairs, because she’d probably blush down to her roots.

  Malcolm shrugged. “I don’t know. It’ll be your job to find out. If that’s the case, you’re going to need to convince her otherwise. We can set her up with Owen Zaputo. He’s a decent guy.”

  Owen Zaputo was a great agent, one of their best. He was a force in the field, and he had a quick, intelligent mind that could definitely keep up with Katrina. When Keith thought about it, he realized that Kat actually had a lot in common with Owen.

  He did nothing to prevent the scowl from taking over his face. “Zaputo? Seriously? That guy is way too soft for her. She’d run right over him, and she’s not the most forceful person.”

  “If she wants to be a Domme, she can start with Owen. He’d love to sub for her.” Malcolm chewed his lip as he considered that theory.

  Keith shoved him toward the parking lot. “Go home. You need sleep, because you’re starting to sound ridiculous. Your sister is not Domme material.”

  Mal moved two steps, but then he turned back to Keith. “No, she’s not. But if she wants to try out being a Domme, then we have to support her in that. She might be all sweetness to us, but she can be seriously tenacious when she decides she wants something. If we get in her way, then she’ll just push us aside. Given the danger she’s in, we can’t afford to have her pissed off at either of us.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll teach her how to use a flogger. She can practice with my equipment.” Part of him wanted to see her wield it, to see if she could flog him and remain the feisty submissive he loved. “More weapons to use against an attacker.”

  Malcolm grinned as he backed away. “You could even let her practice on you. She could get out all her aggressions, and you can pretend you’re doing it to be a good friend instead of admitting what a masochist you really are.”

  Without answering, Keith stepped back through the threshold and closed the door. When he got upstairs, Kat was just finishing up placing an order for pizza and salad. As she tossed her phone onto the counter, he gathered her in his arms, pressing the soft length of her body against his.

  “Your brother thinks I’m a sex addict.”

  He thought she’d laugh, but she frowned as she considered it. “W
ell, I can’t disagree. I think I’ve had more sex in the last week than I have in the past year.” Then her expression morphed as she brought out that devious grin. “Dinner won’t be here for twenty minutes. Want to feed your addiction first?”

  He pretended to mull the offer. “Okay, but what do you want to do with the other nineteen minutes?”

  She lifted a brow and slipped her hand between their bodies to cradle his cock through his pants. “I can think of ways to fill the time.” With that, she squeezed him hard.

  His breath caught in his chest until she eased her grip. Not wasting a moment, he tangled his hand in her hair and pulled. Tears wet the corners of her eyes, but she moaned. When she parted her lips, he claimed her mouth and didn’t bother to temper the violence of his passion. She made a whimpering sound in the back of her throat, and that desperate noise nearly caused him to lose control. No, he wasn’t addicted to sex. He was addicted to sex with her.

  He broke suddenly, trailed kisses down her neck, and bit hard once he reached the curve of her shoulder. She cried out and gripped his head, but he was immovable.

  “Mine.” He licked a path up the side of her throat and took her earlobe between his teeth.

  “Yes,” she hissed, tearing at his clothes.

  He bent his knees and banded his arm around her waist. Then he stood, lifting her from the floor, and he carried her down the hall. Throwing her to the bed, he gave an order. “Naked. Now.”

  He ripped off his shirt and pants, thankful they’d dispensed with condoms. Glancing up, he saw that she’d shed her clothes and centered her body on the bed with her legs spread in welcome. One finger moved over her clit, pressing and circling, enticing him closer.

  He crawled over her and slid inside her waiting pussy in one smooth motion. Then he lifted his hips. “Close your legs.”

  When she was positioned the way he wanted, he hugged his thighs around her legs, pinning her in place. He flexed his hips, withdrawing nearly all the way before plunging deep inside. Yes, this was what he wanted. Her heat surrounded him, and her small cunt was even tighter than usual.