Read Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender Online

Authors: Maya Banks,Karin Tabke,Sylvia Day

Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender (20 page)

BOOK: Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender
4.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Immediately, she reached behind her and tried to grab his hand away from the blonde, but Blondie stayed his hand, snarling around his dick. The redhead snarled back.
And this was exactly why, to him, variety was the spice of life.
He loved sex. Loved women. He loved all their shapes, sizes, colors, and smells. He loved that he could love them all night with no strings. He never took a woman to his place; he never stayed for breakfast at theirs. It was how he rolled.
In his line of work, commitments complicated the job—
if
he still had one.
“Bitch,” the redhead hissed.
The curse along with a violent flurry of movement alerted Colin that the catfight was on. Carefully, he extracted his package and rolled, barely escaping before the redhead twisted and pounced on the little blonde.
He shook his head and yanked the redhead off Blondie despite the fact that their claws were digging into each other. Once he’d separated them, he reached for his jeans and yanked them on. He was over it.
“Now he’s leaving!” Blondie screeched at Red. And the fight was on again. It was time to go. Hissing and spitting like pissed-off kittens, the women rolled off the bed to the floor.
“Girls!” he shouted. “Knock it off.”
Like guilty children, they climbed back onto the bed.
“We’ll play nice, Colin,” Blondie said, pouting. Red nodded vigorously. To prove how serious she really was, she ran her hand along the swell of Red’s hip, pulling her closer. Red arched and ran her fingers down Blondie’s belly to her shaved pussy. Colin’s dick reconsidered his imminent exit. The girls smiled in tandem. They reminded him of the Siamese cats in
Lady and the Tramp
. Only these pussies purred.
Encouraged by his hesitation, Red pushed Blondie roughly onto her back and spread her thighs. She looked over her shoulder at Colin and smiled an I’m-about-to-eat-the-canary smile. His dick swelled. Then she dove in, with her sweet little ass pointing right at him and her slick pink folds clenching and unclenching. It was a tempting offer.
Blondie mewed and moaned, and he knew it wasn’t an act for his benefit. Red was the consummate cock and cunt tease. His cock hurt just thinking about it.
Damn women!
He grabbed a condom from his back pocket, shoved his jeans down his thighs, ripped open the foil package, and slammed the raincoat on. He pulled Red’s sweet little ass toward him and dove in himself. She moaned, grinding against him. Blondie cried out as Red fucked her with her mouth and he fucked Red with his dick. He grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and let it ride.
He arched into Red and came in a harsh burst. At the same time, the “duh, duh-duh-duh” theme from
Dragnet
rang on his cell. His entire body tensed.
He was about to get an answer to the question that had been haunting him for months. Had he or hadn’t he been reinstated?
He jerked out of Red’s possessive pussy, grabbed his phone from his pocket, and hit the answer button. “Daniels,” he said roughly.
“Looks like you used up another one of those lives of yours, Sergeant,” Colin’s captain said, apparently not happy with Colin’s luck. No surprise there. Since Colin had joined the tristate task force four years ago, this was the third time the captain had called him to tell him he’d dodged another IA bullet with his name on it. This time it was a trumped-up charge of brutality. What the hell was he supposed to do when the bad guy resisted? Sing “Kumbaya”? Colin never pounded a bad guy who didn’t deserve it. Except this time his intel had been wrong. It was the bad guy’s brother. He’d said he was sorry. Wasn’t enough; the dude went after his badge. Almost got it too.
Colin grinned, spanked Red’s ass, and stalked toward what he thought was the bathroom.
“And a fine good evening to you too, Captain Moriarty.”
“Fuck you, Daniels. I want you in my office at oh six hundred, use the back entrance, and don’t tell a soul I called
or
the details of this call, including your union rep.” He hung up.
Colin zipped up, slid his cell into his back pocket, and strode back into the bedroom where the panting goddesses awaited. He grinned and grabbed his shirt from the floor and shrugged it on. “Duty calls, ladies.”
“No!” they cried, leaping off the bed toward him. He quickly made his exit, ignoring their pleas for him to stay.
 
The sun was just barely peeking over the eastern horizon when Colin strolled into a nondescript building in the Bronx, where the Federal Investigative Strike Team, or FIST, was housed. FIST was a combined task force of tenured police officers and seasoned feds in the tristate area of New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey, specifically designated to bite hunks of meat off the bones of the flourishing crime families in the area’s largest cities. It wasn’t just the Tony Sopranos anymore; it was the Irish, the Cubans, and the Russians. Crime in the tristate area paid big-time.
Captain M glared from his office to the left as Colin strode in whistling Dixie.
“Ah, the bulletproof prodigal son returns,” Special Agent Jackson Davies said from his cubicle, giving Colin a high five.
“More like they couldn’t get another sucker to deal with the devil,” Colin said. FIST had several nonnegotiable requirements before a potential candidate could even be considered for a place on this highly trained and covert team: must have worked narcotics, vice, and homicide. With the exception of management, the field agents must be and remain single. No family to explain long absences to. No love interests to tug on heartstrings, and no personal commitments. Not even a goldfish. The payoff? They got to put real bad people away for a very long time. Colin lived for this shit.
Jackson nodded. “You’re probably right, but make sure the next dirtbag you pound to salt is a
real
dirtbag.”
Colin grinned and poured himself a cup of coffee; the only decent thing in the task-force office. “I plead the Fifth, Davies.”
“Daniels, my office,” the captain bellowed from his doorway.
Colin raised his cup to another agent, Teague, and the rookie, Dimarco, and strut into the captain’s glass-walled office.
“Shut the goddamn door, hotshot,” he growled.
Colin obliged and sprawled out in the only other chair in the room besides his captain’s.
Captain Moriarty glared at him. He never had liked Colin and the feeling was mutual. Could have something to do with the fact that Colin had done his wife—before she was Moriarty’s wife—six ways to sundown for just as many days. Lisa Delveccio-Moriarty was one of the few women he had gone back to for seconds, and thirds ...
“Finally, the ladies’ man will meet his match,” the captain said. He shoved a manila file folder across his desk.
Colin set his coffee cup down on the floor and reached for the file. As he picked it up, Moriarty’s fist slammed down on it. His intense steel blue eyes locked on Colin’s. “You fuck this up, and I swear by all that is holy, I will fuck you in the ass so deep you’ll be giving me a blow job.”
Colin ignored the captain’s threat. He got it. Got that the captain could not handle the fact that he’d screwed his wife. Got that every time Moriarty looked at him, he conjured up images of Lisa and Colin tearing up the sheets. And although Moriarty went out of his way to make Colin’s life miserable, Colin got the pride thing too.
He might be a womanizer, but he wasn’t a prick who rubbed his conquests in another man’s face.
“Message received,” Colin said not breaking his stare.
The captain sat back.
Colin opened the file to find a single photo. He picked it up and nodded. Very impressive. An odd sensation skittered through him. And ... familiar. A woman’s stunning albeit not-too-happy face stared at him in moody silence from an eight-by-ten color glossy. A lion’s mane of thick golden hair haloed the classically structured face. Big green eyes stared at him from above a pert nose. And a set of glistening, full pouty lips beckoned, lips that he could envision wrapped around him—milking him one drop at a time.
Blood shot straight to his cock. It was a visceral reaction. She oozed sensuality, but something else caught him and it cooled his blood.
An angry fire burned behind the huge soulful eyes, framed by the longest, blackest lashes he’d ever seen. He felt the same fire ignite in his gut. Someone had damaged this woman. Though she’d tried to disguise it with makeup, there was a distinct scar running from the left corner of her mouth straight back to her ear. He looked up at the captain.
“Sophia Gilletti. Angelo Gilletti’s very-soon-to-be ex.”
“What happened to her face?”
“He cut her for talking to another man.”
Colin shook his head in disgust. He may be a wham-bam-thank-you-very-much-ma’am kind of guy, but he always left his women with a smile on their faces and an orgasm or two to keep them warm. Not a scar. “Prick.”
“A prick, to be sure. It’s why she ran. It’s why you’re going to California and bringing her here to a safe house, where she’ll tell all to the DA.”
So she wasn’t a crook he was supposed to bust but a witness he needed to protect. The prospect of meeting the woman revved his blood.
“Where’s Gilletti?”
“We’re not sure. He blipped off our radar four days ago. Last seen entering Scalias’s in Little Italy, he never exited. He skipped town via the sewer system.”
“Perfect place for the guy.”
“He’s got a million-dollar contract on her. Go get her, bring her back here. She’ll stay in the apartment upstairs, where she’ll have round-the-clock protection.”
Colin looked up at his captain. “Who’s going with me?”
“You’re going it alone. We’ve put the word out that you’re done here, done as a cop, and that a warrant will be issued for your arrest. It’ll look like you’re on the run. No one will think you’re going to retrieve the state’s most coveted witness in history.”
Something about the captain’s plan didn’t sit well with Colin.
The captain drilled Colin with a glare. “I’ll need your badge and your weapon.” He reached down and lifted a small black duffel from behind his desk and set it down in front of Colin. “There’re one hundred rounds, two Sigs with the serial numbers filed off, a silencer, and three thousand in marked bills. You have twenty-four hours to get her back here before that warrant is officially executed. If it takes you longer, you deal with the repercussions.”
Colin pulled the bag toward him and inspected the contents. All present and accounted for, just like the captain said. Colin hesitated to hand over his badge and weapon. While FIST worked outside of the box as a rule, this was a little too far outside. Did Moriarty hate him so much he was setting him up? He looked back at the eight-by-ten. The green eyes haunted him. For her, he would go. For himself, once the mission was accomplished, he would call Moriarty out and take care of him once and for all.
“The clock is ticking, Daniels.”
Colin withdrew his Glock from his shoulder hostler and slid it across the desk to his commander then pulled his badge from his wallet and placed it beside his weapon. He retrieved one of the Sigs from the duffel, loaded it, then slid it into his empty holster.
“Where is she?”
“A private residence in Lake Tahoe.” The captain handed him a folded piece of paper. “She doesn’t know you’re coming. You’ll have to convince her to return with you.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Work that charm of yours on her.”
Colin loaded the second semi and said, “She doesn’t know she’s going to turn state’s evidence either.” He looked at his captain. “Does she?”
Moriarty set his lips and shook his head. “She’s running for her life. We were lucky to stumble on her whereabouts. One of the retired feds who worked to put Gilletti senior away recognized her, despite her disguise, at a gas station in Placerville, where he retired. Being the suspicious fellow he is, he followed her to Tahoe and called it in.”
“So, I’m supposed to show up on her doorstep, introduce myself, and say ‘I’m here to take you back to New York so you can turn state’s evidence against your husband who has a hit out on you’?”
BOOK: Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender
4.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Poison to Purge Melancholy by Elena Santangelo
IM10 August Heat (2008) by Andrea Camilleri
2 Deja Blue by Julie Cassar
Silent Hunt by John Lescroart
Cold Blood by James Fleming