Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) (20 page)

Thorn

“She’s perfect for you, and I got the collar big enough for her to grow into it,” I say with pride.

What is it about giving my woman a puppy that makes me feel ten feet tall?

“She’s lovely, thank you, Thorn,” Windy says as she leans over to kiss me sweetly on my cheek. But the tender moment is brief. “Do you think it’s him? Do you think Dr. Brinkley killed that guy?” My girl’s distracted by dark thoughts of the man she works for. We’re sitting side by side at our desk; she’s working on her laptop and I’m reviewing an
Undercover Elite
report on the desktop PC. We work together well, and I can see this happening a lot in the future.

I lean back in my chair and walk her through the information we have so far, much of it she already knows, but sometimes it can be helpful to rehash the basics. “The evidence points to a gang, much more so than your boss. That kid was killed execution style. The only thing I don’t get is why gangbangers wouldn’t take those cars, especially a rival gang. It just doesn’t make sense.”

Windy nods in agreement, which makes her blonde hair cascade over one shoulder.
Focus, Thorn.

“True,” she agrees. “That’s the typical M.O. of an organized crime syndicate, to send a message that way. I know groups like gangs and organized crime tend to send death threats or, when they catch the snitch, kill him with a bullet to the back of the head. What if his own gang killed him? Those guys working in the garage saw Johnnie and me talking to him that day.”

Damn. I’ve always appreciated intelligence in a woman but I’ve never actually found it sexy until now. Hearing her analyzing crime theories, though, has me sporting wood. Huh. Didn’t see that one coming. Could have something to do with the fact that she’s wearing one of my dress shirts and the tiniest panties I’ve ever seen.

“You know what, you make a good point,” I tell her, trying like hell to keep my eyes focused front and center and not on anything below her neck.
Yeah, good luck with that, fucker.
“It was a fluke that we found the body at all. Afterwards we called the cops, and between the evidence of the cars on the barge that were ready for transport, and the warrant they executed on the gang’s hangout, they had all the evidence they needed to bust the rest of the gang. But it still doesn’t answer the question of who killed that kid.”

Windy frowns and wrinkles her nose, deep in thought.
Shit, she’s fucking cute.
“The cars being left on the barge could point to his own gang killing him; maybe they thought he was snitching along with the parking attendant. I just don’t want to believe Dr. Brinkley would do something like that.”

“The gang doesn’t know we’ve been talking to the parking attendant; if they did, I can promise you he’d be dead, too.” I shut down the computer and stand, stretching my arms over my head. It feels good to loosen up after sitting for the last couple hours. “All you need to know is that, no matter what, I’ll keep you safe, baby. I promise you that.”

I pull her close for my kiss and tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging on her honey blonde mane harder than I probably should. My tongue swirls against hers as I taste her. My cock is bone-hard against her luscious curves. I don’t know where she got the idea that her curves aren’t the hottest thing on the planet, but I intend to convince her otherwise.

I slide my hands over her body, stroking and caressing as I unbutton the shirt and take a thorough inventory of all my favorite places…starting with firm, plump breasts that fill my hands perfectly. I knew her tits would be extraordinary even before I ever got her naked, but her nipples were a beautiful surprise. She has the most succulent nipples I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my mouth: not your typical flat variety, but sort of puffy, and a mouth-watering rosy-pink color. I could write poems about these plump nipples, I think, as I raise one peak to my lips and feast, smiling against her taut flesh at her throaty moans of pleasure.

My hands wander to her slender waist before sliding down to cup her ass. I knead her warm, smooth flesh, then slide a hand between her legs and groan when I find the silky moisture that’s always waiting for me. When I’ve got her primed and ready, I reach around and stroke between her ass cheeks, pressing a slick finger gently against the tiny rosette there. She stiffens in surprise so I rain kisses down the side of her neck and whisper a long, dirty list of things I want to do to her. I increase the pressure until the tip of my finger slides inside. My finger pumps in and out as her muscles pull me in deeper with each stroke, until I slide all the way in to my knuckle. “Who do you belong to?” I rasp against the shell of her ear as I slide my other hand down to stroke her clit, varying the pressure and speed of my strokes the way I know she likes it.

“You,” she gasps as I work her with both hands, “I belong…to you. Oh…Oh, fuck, Thorn!” she cries as the flood of new sensations triggers an orgasm that buckles her knees.

I growl in her ear, “Someday soon, I’m going to have you there, Windy, because it’s part of you and there’s not an inch of you that doesn’t belong to me, not an inch of you that I won’t have.”

I kneel between her legs and push her knees apart so I can nuzzle her through her panties. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, baby,” I whisper, “I could go down on you for hours – hell, more like days.”

I peel her out of her dainty underwear and lift her to sit on the edge of the desk. I dip my tongue into her slit, savoring her sweet, tangy taste and the desperate sounds that pour out of her. Knowing it’s me making her lose her mind like that sends me into overdrive and I slide my finger inside her pussy once more to stroke that sweet little bundle of nerves. I look up long enough to see her lost in the pleasure I’m giving her and it fills me with fierce satisfaction. Knowing I’m the man who put that look on her face sends primal, masculine pride roaring through me.
I own this pussy. It’s mine. God help me, I want to drag her into my cave and never let her leave.

I bear down hard on her clit with my lips and my tongue, groaning against her skin as her body is wracked by another orgasm. Her pussy floods my mouth with her cream and I lap it up like a dying man in the desert, savoring her taste and her musky scent as my tongue slides through her silky folds. I give her mound a sweet kiss before I stand and remove my clothes. I lift her off the desk with my hands gripping her ass, which is one of their favorite places to be these days. I grin into the side of her neck when I feel her wrap all four limbs around me. She hangs onto me like a little monkey as I carry her across the room, and I look down at her with a laugh because I love that shit.

She gives me a sultry smile as I lay her down on the bed. There’s no joking around now as she spreads her legs wide, showing me what’s mine, inviting me in. I cover her with my body and thrust powerfully inside her on the first stroke. As I always do, I try to stay still long enough to gather some control and make this good for her. It gets harder to hold back every time, as the urge to claim her fires down the length of my spine to my aching cock. All I have to do is look into those eyes, and I’m overwhelmed by the urge to mate. So I start moving inside her, thrusting hard and fast; I’ll go slow later. Pure instinct takes over as my back bows so I can press the length of my cock as deep as it will go. As I pound into her relentlessly, she cries out, making those throaty sounds of pleasure/pain that she can’t hold back. It’s all I need to find my own release and I pour myself into her with one final thrust of my hips.

I roll over onto my back and pull her with me so she’s lying on my chest. Neither of us can find words after that intense session, we just let hands and lips move easily, stroking and soothing. I stare at the ceiling as my breathing slowly returns to normal. I know I’m sinking deeper and deeper every time we come together. And, yeah, that’s fine with me because I know without question that I’m exactly where I need to be. And so is my woman.

Thorn

Windy eyes me from her side of the desk where we’re seated working. “Georgia is under lock and key at Our Lady. Do you think she’s still dangerous?” she asks solemnly.

I know Windy well enough to know she’ll continue to question me until she’s looked at every angle. Rather than being perturbed by it, I’m actually flattered. I want her looking to me for answers.

“No doubt. She’s a calculating psychopath who’s developed a fixation on her doctor. She sees anyone who gets near the doctor as a threat. But it isn’t like you’re fucking the guy so you should be relatively safe.”

“That’s where things get weird with her; she doesn’t want anyone near him, be it physically, emotionally, or in a professional capacity. In her mind, he belongs to her and any outsider is seen as a threat.”

“Well, it’s a good thing she’s as good as behind bars then.” I look over at her when I speak, making my next statement. “Use it against her, use the fact she wants to remove you from the situation. Shake her up a little and get her to open up to you. Go balls to the wall, baby girl; come right out and ask her why she’s so enamored with that uptight asshole.” I shake my head, chuckling because my woman is still talking like she’s talking out loud to herself; it’s how she processes information.

“What’s odd about the whole thing is he seems to be in her grip. It’s like he wants her there with him. He won’t allow anyone else to counsel her or interview with her, except me. I’m actually shocked he lets me do that.”

“Hey, no offense, but I’ve seen pictures of the chick—she’s beautiful. What guy wouldn’t be caught up in that? Isn’t it every guy’s dream to be the object of a beautiful crazy woman’s obsession?” I’m being facetious but in a sense it’s true.

“Fuck you, Thorn.”

“Just did, but I’ll get with you a little later.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“And you, little girl, are jealous.”

“Maybe a little,” she admits.

I say more seriously, “The obsessive, psychological bullshit? It’s her weapon of choice. Look, Windy, your line of work is bound to wear on a person over time. You can’t be subjected to the dark side without it creeping into your soul. As innocent as you are, there must be some darkness there or you wouldn’t crave studying serial killers the way you do. We all have a dark side; some of us are just better at hiding it from people than others are. Don’t let him fool you; he’s just as crazy as the rest of us. It goes with the job title.”

I look up as Harley enters the bedroom.

“You’re hanging around a lot lately,” she teases him.

“Yeah, maybe your little friend is rubbing off on me. I think it’s pretty cool how she comes from money but chose to make her life here helping these women make a fresh start.”

“Yeah, she could be doing what so many other trust fund babies do, spending her days being self-absorbed.”

“That’s no fun when you can be working with us,” he says with a grin. “That’s much more exciting.”

“Yeah,” I deadpan, “between my job and working with you all, my world’s just full of shits and giggles.”