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Authors: Cynnamon Foster

BOOK: NorthernPassion
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Sam put one hand between her legs, feeling her sex through
her clothing. She willed more space between her thighs as she enjoyed the
feeling of his fingers probing her. “I want you now.” His hot whispers made her
shudder as her panties became soggy.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

“No,” Sam said. “Here. I want you right here.”

Desiree gasped. They weren’t in the locker room at work.
There was no one who could see, at least not that she knew of. He made her feel
like being naughty. She didn’t have time to answer. Sam thrust her sweats down,
leaving them around her ankles. Desiree barely had time to pull one leg out as
he unzipped his zipper, not bothering to even drop his pants. She braced
herself on the table as he filled her with his rod.

They paused for a minute. The feeling of Sam inside her
always caught her off guard. It was so wonderfully magical every time. She
closed her eyes, then opened them slowly.

Sam groaned. “I’m home,” he said. He held on to Desiree’s
hips, one hand on each side, lifting her gently to her tiptoes. Slowly he moved
away from her, then back so their bodies met. They both gasped together.
Desiree braced herself as best she could against the table as he moved in and
out of her.

“This is what I call afternoon delight.” Sam’s words came
between each gasp of air.

“It’s almost evening.”

“I guess we’re going to have to do it again then.” He moved
faster with each thrust.

Desiree’s words were gasps in-between his movements. “I
guess we will. Don’t be a tease, though. Don’t make promises you don’t intend
to fulfill.”

“Shut up, woman. I’m concentrating.” Sweat beads dripped
onto Desiree. Their bodies made a popping sound at the top of every stroke. “I
want to make sure you get what you bargained for.” Sam probed her clit with one
finger.

“Oh I like that,” she said. “That’s good. Fuck me good, Mr.
Comfort.”

“You know I like it when you talk dirty to me,” Sam said. “I
like it a lot. I want you to enjoy this. Look forward to me coming home each
day.” He pulled her closer and harder with one hand.

Desiree leaned down on the table so her hips pointed up. “I
like talking dirty. I like being dirty. I want you to fuck me harder. I want to
remember every homecoming. I’m close, baby. Harder, please. Harder.”

Sam’s voice was forceful. “And it’s even sexier when you
beg. More. Do it more.”

“Please, baby. Give me all you got.” Desiree’s whole body
was on fire. An orgasm was just around the corner for her. “I love it. I love
it when you make me come.”

“Oh yes,” Sam said. “I want you to enjoy the journey and the
destination. Am I on track?”

Desiree moaned and fell forward on the table as waves of
pleasure coursed through her. Her body exploded as Sam lay on top of her, not
moving. She savored the feeling of his dick pulsing inside her as they came
together. This was a very good way to end the day.

Slowly, they became aware of the mess around them. The
papers that had been on the table were now strewn about the room. The dining
room table was surrounded by boxes. “Mmm, baby,” Desiree said. “You’ve got a
lot of work to do.”

Sam stood. “I thought I was working all day.”

Desiree laughed and hunted down her sweat pants. “I don’t
know what you’ve been doing,” she said. “But someone has got to get this house
in order. Reed went overboard. I have no idea why he thought we needed all this
stuff anyway.” A warm feeling came over Desiree. Playing house had put a bug in
her ear. She might really enjoy being Mrs. Sam Comfort, if only just for a
little while.

The mention of their boss seemed to flip a switch inside Sam
and he reverted to business Sam, the one Desiree didn’t like so much. “Authenticity.
People have to trust us. They have to invite us in. We probably don’t even have
to unpack anyway. Knowing Reed, they may be empty.”

Desiree tried to hide her disappointment. “You’re right. I
guess it’s working. One of the neighbors invited us to a get-together already.”

A broad smile spread across Sam’s face. “Why didn’t you tell
me so before? Let’s figure out the next steps.”

“Hello?” A voice came from the front of their house. Both
Sam and Desiree looked at each other questioningly and Sam reached into a
kitchen drawer, wrapping his fingers around his pistol.

“Can we help you?” Desiree asked, questioningly. She was
already on guard, ready to fight if she had to.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but the door wasn’t locked.” A
woman walked into view and both Sam and Desiree visibly relaxed. She was
smallish, brunette and unlike the neighbor Desiree had encountered earlier,
this one was dressed to the nines, high heels and all. “I rang and I knocked
and then I saw the door was open, so I just came on in. I hope you don’t mind.”
She held her hands together in such a way to be either wringing them or keeping
them steady. Her face was flushed red.

Desiree minded but didn’t say so. Instead, she plastered a
fake smile on her face and wondered how long the woman had been standing in the
front of the house. From the look on her face, she’d seen something she hadn’t
counted on, for sure. “Well, I can’t say I am used to strangers just coming
into my house, but it’s okay. You’re lucky we didn’t protect ourselves first
and ask questions later.” She veiled her annoyance with laughter.

Sam cleared his throat and spoke up. “How can we help you?”

The woman stuttered. “I’m sorry. I live a few doors down.
Geneva Jenilham. Pleased to meet you.”

Sam and Desiree exchanged glances, surprised to meet another
neighbor so quickly. They had both been briefed on who the neighbors were and
had recognized her immediately. Sam finally extended his hand. Geneva
immediately took his hand and smiled brightly. Desiree watched as they shook
hands in what seemed like slow motion. Her eyes narrowed but she stood her
ground.

After what felt like an eternity, Geneva finally broke away
from Sam’s gaze. “You two sure make a mighty handsome couple,” she said. “You
might be the best-looking couple on the block.”

Desiree smiled, raising her eyebrows. There was so much that
could be behind her comment. “Flattery will get you everywhere. But what brings
you to our door today?”

Geneva laughed nervously again. “I’m sorry. I got a little
sidetracked. I was just dazzled for a minute.”

“Yes, he does that to people. He’s sort of like a vampire.”
Desiree fought to keep her breath steady, her face bare of expression. She was
used to people ogling Sam. He was tall, dark and handsome, practically a
walking cliché. Hotness personified. It was part of the job.

Now they both laughed as Sam looked on. For a split second,
they were part of a sisterhood. Geneva continued. “I’m the president of the
neighborhood association and I need to get your contact information for the
newsletter.” She paused awkwardly. “We have an email list. And I think I need
to invite you to our social group.” She paused, looking from Sam to Desire and
back to Sam again. “I think you’ll fit right in.” She seemed to hide a secret
behind her smile as her eyes raked first Sam, then Desiree.

A shiver ran through Desiree’s body. She felt she had just
been undressed. Not unusual for people to do it to Sam, but a woman doing it to
her was a new feeling. Her face grew hot and she cursed herself for being so
light her embarrassment would be obvious.

Geneva was finally able to tear her eyes away. “I’ll send
you some details. Recently we’ve been meeting at my place so you won’t have to
go far.” Her words were singsong now. She was obviously more comfortable.

Geneva seemed to grow more confident. “Okay, so, I’ll be on
my way.” She put a card on the counter. “You just send your information to that
email and I’ll take care of the rest.” She laughed. “I won’t keep you anymore.
You just get back to whatever it was you were doing. Okay?” She barely waited
to be escorted out. It was all Desiree and Sam could do to keep up with her.
She made her way to the front door the same way she’d found her way in.

They waited to close the door to talk. Sam was the one to
break the silence. “She was something.”

“Yes, she was. I don’t know what though. She obviously
thought you were something too.” Playfully, she punched him in the arm.

“No, I think she seemed to be equally taken with both of us.”
They paused a minute as they mulled over this new information.

“So you say, but let me know if I have to carry a knife,”
Desiree said.

“Ooh. Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

“I’ll admit nothing.” Desiree turned the tumbler, locking
the front door. “Seriously, it seems as if we’re going to have to stay on top
of security around here.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess.” He scratched his forehead. “This is
the first time I didn’t have to gain any trust or anything. Work my way in.”

Desiree nodded. “Does seem odd. Feels as if we’re being
dragged in or something.”

“Dragged in or lured…” He paused. “I don’t know if that’s
good or bad.” Sam was pensive as Desiree picked up the mess they’d made in the
kitchen.

She concentrated hard. There was something she just couldn’t
put her finger on. “So, the funeral. I guess that means our man wasn’t one of
the missing, then?”

Sam looked at the funeral program. He turned it over and
over in his hand. “You know, I’m not sure, but nowhere here does it say there
was a body. There is no mention of where he was buried.”

“Didn’t think of that. So, he might not be dead, then.”
Desiree’s statement was so matter of fact, it was impossibly clear. She and Sam
locked gazes. The mystery might be bigger than they thought and she was itching
to get to the bottom of it.

Chapter Five

Pleasure and Pain

 

Reed’s face was as unmoving via video conference as it was
in person. Just a few short months ago, he would have been intimidating to
Desiree, but she’d quickly gotten over that and was now used to taking his
misogynist barbs, letting them slide off her now the way water slipped off a
duck’s back.

She’d laid everything on the line in the last assignment in
India. Her eyes stung as she thought about it. She’d had to put all her personal
feelings aside and act comfortable where she was not. Desire would like to
believe she’d gained some respect in Reed’s eyes. She’d proven she was just as
willing to go all-in as any other agent, so she had no idea what his problem
was.

“I know you like playing house,” Reed said, his words slimy
as they slipped from his lips. He’d agreed to Sam and Desiree’s assignment, but
that didn’t mean he had nothing to say about it. Both Sam and Desiree expected
some push back. Reed was generally resentful of the two of them and took every
opportunity to let them know who was in control.

When you worked for the agency, a relationship or connection
of any kind was virtually impossible. It wasn’t as if you could actually have a
relationship, at least not an outside one. There weren’t many people who would
be tolerant of their partner just disappearing for months at a time, or
dropping off the face of the earth and not coming back. You really couldn’t
even disclose what your job was or you might put them in danger and there was
no such thing as balance between work and life in their profession. There was
only work, no life. Most of the agents avoided relationships because of that.
Sam and Desiree were unusual--and lucky. They were a couple in both realms and
so far had only been assigned together. There was no telling how long that
would last.

Desiree ignored Reed’s comment, instead redirecting him to
the problem at hand. “We believe the crying woman in Toulouse was no relation
to the deceased, contrary to what she said. We’ll figure it out though. All we
know is there is somehow a connection between the bridal party and the family
next door—the Jenilhams.”

Reed didn’t bother to try to hide his annoyance. “All you
know? What does that mean? And what kind of connection? Tell me something that
I don’t already know. You’ve got to give me more than that.”

Sam piped in, “We’ll have more soon. Tonight, I believe.
We’ve already been invited to a neighborhood soiree.” He moved from foot to
foot behind Desiree, all the tension in his feet. From years of practice, Sam
was very good at keeping a poker face, but his feet were his tell. He often had
to force himself to stand still, but since Reed could only see his shoulders in
this chat, he didn’t bother. Technology was a wonderful thing.

“Tick, tick, Romeo. Time’s a-wasting. I have other stuff you
could be working on, you know.” Normally clients came to them and asked for
help, but Sam and Desiree had requested this mission. They’d both been so moved
by the distraught woman and the tragedy that had practically taken place on
their doorstep, it was all they could do. Back at the inn, she made it seem as
if no one in France seemed to be helping her at all. The French just wanted to
clear the name of the tour operator so tourism in the area wouldn’t suffer and
back in the United States, the news had just focused on the heartbreaking story
of the tragedy before the wedding.

This was the agency’s version of a pro-bono assignment. The
only ones being paid would be Sam and Desiree and solely with satisfaction for
their curiosity. It happened every now and then, but that did nothing to make
Reed happy. The only agenda he cared about was his own and right now that meant
reminding Sam and Desiree how he was sticking his neck out by humoring them with
this assignment. “Not to mention the tab for setting you up in your fancy
suburban digs—”

“Okay, Reed.” Sam’s voice was gruff. He cut Reed off before
he ran things into the ground. It didn’t make sense to be annoyed by someone
who wasn’t even really in the same room. “We got it. If you weren’t in, you
could have said no. If it’s a problem, you know I can pick up some of the tab.”
Sam had gotten a completion bonus from one of the agency’s benefactors left him
set for life, yet he kept working. He was one of those rare folks who wouldn’t
quit his job if he hit the lottery. Though they’d never discussed it, Desiree
often wondered about it. Her family hadn’t exactly been poor, but they weren’t
rich either. A mixed-race family didn’t really fit anywhere in Austin, where
she’d grown up. Most of her life, she’d lived in a neighborhood just above the
bottom and everyone’s favorite fantasy was what they would do if they won the
lottery. Almost everyone’s first response had been “I’d damn sure tell my boss
to go to hell.” Basically Sam had, yet he came to work every day and took shit
from Reed. His dedication spoke volumes about how much he loved what he did.

Desiree refused to be flustered but, like Sam, she was done
hearing what Reed had to say. “If we’re going to be on time, we need to go.” Instead
of the email she’d promised, a golden envelope had been slipped under their
door the next morning. The instructions in the invitation were clear. Nine p.m.
sharp. So much for fashionably late. “You know I need to manage my mane.” She
flipped her curly locks back over her shoulder, then played at smoothing it
with her hand. Desiree knew what would get on Reed’s nerves and this obvious
display of frivolousness would certainly annoy him.

As expected, Reed rolled his eyes, having little patience
for all things girly. His annoyance was clear, even via video chat. “You have
two months, maximum, and this had better be done in closer to thirty days,” he said.
“Just give me an update tomorrow.” He didn’t wait for goodbye. The screen went
dark almost immediately.

Sam chuckled. “My, my,” he said. “Someone has certainly come
a long way. You went from scared mouse to playing dirty.”

“I get so tired of him. It’s obvious he has a problem with
women.”

“So when he bothers you, you let all your woman hang out,
huh?”

She nodded. “Damn skippy. Reed is so easy once you figure
him out. That’s all I’m saying.” Desiree had quickly learned what she had in
her toolbox and how to use them. Office politics were certainly different
around the agency, but that didn’t mean they were impossible to master.

Sam put his arm around Desiree, kissing her gently on the
lips. “I like a woman who knows how to handle herself. Do you have me figured
out too?”

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” A small smirk played
about her lips.

Sam kissed her again. “What did he do to annoy you? I need
to know what it was so I won’t make the same mistake. Was it the criticism? Or
the cracks about playing house?”

“You couldn’t possibly be like him….” She paused. Sam didn’t
need to know how she really felt, at least not yet. “It’s just his general
being.”

The obvious digs about them being undercover as a married
couple were a sore spot for her. She had no idea how much she would enjoy the
thought of being married and particularly to Sam. They’d never talked about
their relationship in terms of permanence before. Permanence, like
relationships, was something best not discussed. One wrong turn and either one
of them could be gone tomorrow, so it was better not to think about such
attachment and act as if now were real. This might be all they got.

Sam picked up the gold envelope from the corner of the
counter and removed the invitation. He flipped it open, then closed again. “Don’t
you think this is kind of cryptic?”

Desiree took the envelope from him. “Cryptic? No. It’s very
straightforward and simple, though. Basically, be there at nine p.m.. It’s a
cocktail party invitation. Maybe that’s all there is. Just cocktails.”

“Perhaps on the surface. But you and I both know there’s
more. There always is.” He pointed at the line on the bottom. “What do you
think CP means?” He ran his finger over the embossed initials. “None of the
people we met have a name beginning with those letters.”

“Not sure,” Desiree said, her eyes narrowing. The invitation
was simple, but it was definitely intriguing. “But I’m sure we’ll find out.”

* * * * *

The gathering wasn’t so much a secret as much as they just
didn’t bother to invite the others. Martin Jenilham, Leesa Consat and Kimberly
Brown sat in the Jenilham kitchen with barely warm coffee cups in front of
them. All three clutched their cups tightly but no one actually drank much. The
conversation had gone from quiet to spirited in the blink of an eye.

Marting noticed Leesa was obviously upset. She shook her leg
nervously as she dangled on the edge of the counter stool way too high for her petite
five-foot-two-inch frame.

“Tell me again why you took it upon yourself to invite them?”
She practically spat her words across the kitchen island. “We normally confer
about everyone new. We screen new members, remember?”

Kimberly slammed her fist down on the table. Her face was
flushed with anger. “Bullshit. This isn’t about screening. Reading someone’s
Facebook timeline isn’t screening. You’re just mad because you didn’t meet them
first.” She swiveled her chair around to face Martin. He’d been sitting
quietly, watching the two women, running his index finger around the rim of his
huge coffee mug as he contemplated the new neighbors.

He was much calmer than the women, partly because he thought
they were overreacting and partly due to the jigger of vodka he’d added to his
coffee. “I think they’ll make an interesting addition to our group. Perhaps
spice things up a bit. They don’t have to be members. Not yet. They can just be
guests. They’ll need feeling out first.”

Leesa whipped her head around, her anger now directed at
Martin. “I’m not exciting enough? Kimberly’s pretty damn exciting too. Just
what are you trying to say, Martin? We put rules in place for a reason. We know
nothing about these people.”

The women bored Martin. They’d missed the point of the whole
arrangement they had. The Passion Club was his brainchild. He made up the
rules, so he could change them as he saw fit. “I’m saying the way we do things
around here, we keep things fresh and exciting. These two people, the Comforts,
they’re going to bring new things we haven’t tried before. That’s what I’m
saying. I’m saying I want new and exciting.”

His words didn’t seem to calm Leesa one bit. “It’s never
good enough or exciting enough for you, Marty. You’re always pushing the
envelope.” She glared at him without apology.

Kimberly almost snorted out the sip of coffee she’d just
taken. “I could go so many places with that.”

“You shut up.” Leesa glared at her. “What makes them
exciting? It’s better when we get to know them at first.” Her reply bordered on
whining, something Martin hated. “We weren’t supposed to do anything or anyone
else on the street. It was supposed to only be people from the Facebook group,
people we’ve at least taken the time to get to know before we invite them to
our little events.”

“Get over yourself, Leesa,” Kimberly jumped in. She
guffawed. “I can’t believe you people buy that lurking on someone’s profile on
Facebook or Tumblr means we’re getting to know them. That shit is all made up.
People are who they want to be online. Can’t you see he wants fresh blood?
Heaven knows I do too. Fresh, dark meat. I’ve never been with a man who wasn’t
white before. And the woman? She looked quite delicious too. She’s black or
something.”

“Or something.” Martin and Kimberly laughed together while
Leesa glared at them. They’d all watched the new couple move onto the street
from behind the safety of their curtains. Together, they’d speculated about the
ages of the new couple and about how open they would be to the lifestyle they
enjoyed. The man was definitely African-American, but the woman had one of
those faces that could be anything, the kind of face that was all over commercials
and billboards today. The politically correct term nowadays was ethnically
ambiguous.

Martin thought she had gotten the best of all worlds and
hadn’t been shy to say so either. “Don’t you see? The whole premise of our
little group is based on the idea we provide a place for people to be who they
want to be, even if it’s only for a few nights a month. What does it matter who
people say they are on Facebook? When they’re at our events, they get to be who
they want to be. That’s what makes the whole arrangement beautiful. We enjoy a
freedom in this club, in this country, we couldn’t have enjoyed anywhere else.
Don’t you see that?”

Both women rolled their eyes.

“You people have some issues.” Leesa yelled at the top of
her lungs, slammed her coffee cup against the wall and stormed away. Martin
watched her go, unsurprised.

“Seriously, though, Martin. It seems as if no one and
nothing is ever enough for you. What does GG think about this?”

He shrugged. He hadn’t asked his wife what she thought. He’d
just made sure she was the one to go over to the neighbors first. “I don’t
think she cared whether we invited them in or not.” GG was like that and it
made Martin happy he was married to the type of woman who took pleasure in
pleasing her husband. Obviously nothing like the two who were arguing with him
in his own kitchen.

Kimberly looked at Martin, disbelief in her eyes. “No, she
probably didn’t. She’d probably mind if she knew you were looking for new
adventure, as you put it. She’s still not herself, you know.”

Martin’s face lost some of its beam. “No, she’s not.” There
was no denying his wife seemed distant lately. He lowered his voice, as if only
really speaking to himself. “She was too attached to him.”

Martin turned away, pacing the kitchen. The truth was, ever
since Geneva’s swap partner had died, she seemed like a shell of her old self. “I
don’t know what to do about that, but I’m working on it. That isn’t the way
it’s supposed to be.” A swap was supposed to be purely hedonistic, with no
emotions attached. She wasn’t supposed to care he was gone now, at least not as
much as she did.

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