Undercover Lovers (25 page)

She panted out her delight
at his savage thrusts, tilting her hips up and locking her ankles
behind his back. He moved just right to stimulate her clit, his
strokes building her need while she sliced her nails down his
shoulders in a futile effort to pull him deeper. Her heels thumped
against him and her legs tightened in a desperate attempt to get
him to go faster, harder, more.

Before long she realized the
feverish demands she chanted in her head weren’t only being voiced
silently. The wild sex demon who’d possessed her now controlled her
mouth as well, and she didn’t hold back.

“
Fuck me. More.
More.”

“
Yeah, I get it.” Shane’s
bright grin flashed as he gripped the bedding on either side of her
shoulders and gave it his all. “Ram it in harder.”

What the hell. “Yes, dammit.
Harder.” She could barely pant her demands. “As hard as you’ve ever
fucked anyone.”

Maddeningly, he didn’t
comply. He sank all the way inside her, letting her inner tissues
strain to accommodate him. Then he rocked slowly, changing the
angle so that every one of her cells seemed suffused in his warmth.
The fullness of his possession became her whole world, narrowing
her focus to just their mingled scents of sex and sweat, to the
subtle burn and flex of her pussy as she clasped him. He retreated
and then returned, barely leaving her before he came back,
overwhelming her with the tenderness of their
lovemaking.

His fingers brushed her
clit, eliciting her frustrated moan. Not because she hadn’t come,
though she’d been so close for so long. She didn’t
want
to come. Not yet. Her
greediness extended to the pleasure of having him inside her,
linked with her. She couldn’t surrender so soon.

These
strings she never wanted to untie.

But her body wouldn’t be
denied. When he finally surged hard into her pussy, she exploded
with sensation, her head turning back and forth on the bed as
lights danced before her eyes. Even through the internal fireworks
show, she saw his smile. Heard his rough exhale the instant before
he joined her, his orgasm sending him deeper and extending her own.
He burrowed his face in her neck and she reached up to spear her
fingers through his hair, holding him close while his heart beat a
frantic tattoo against hers.

“
Emma,” he whispered in her
ear. “Do you feel it?”

She couldn’t help giggling.
Playfully, she smacked his ass and squeezed him inside her. “Oh, I
feel it, Stripper Shane.”

“
Wench.” He grabbed her hand
and kissed it, his lips arousing an all new throb in her core.
“Keep it up and I’ll make you feel
it
so many times you’ll need help
getting out of here tomorrow.”

Just like that, he doused
her lust in a bucket of cold water. Tomorrow. Return to real life.
“Don’t you mean in a couple hours?” she asked quietly, glancing at
the lightening skies beyond his window. “It’s almost
morning.”

This time he kissed her
mouth, encouraging her to forget. “Almost doesn’t count.” He
shifted inside her, drawing sighs from them both. “There’s plenty
of night left.”

“
But we’ve already done it
three times.”

“
Your point?”

“
You said two was your
limit. Don’t want you to get addicted,” she said, hoping she didn’t
sound as vulnerable as she felt.

“
Too late.”

She grinned, knowing it was.
For both of them. “It turns out that I didn’t drink Becky’s drink.
She drank it.”

His brow furrowed. “You
talked to her in the bathroom?”

“
Yeah.”

He shook his head. “Girls.”
Then as what she’d said sank in, he started to smile. “So that
means…”

“
That means I think you’ve
conquered my inhibitions.”

He kissed the tip of her
nose. “Not all of them. But give me time, Emma Donegan.”

“
I will.” She hugged him
close. Thank God her best friend loved strippers. “As much time as
it takes.”

***

Another Friday night at
Strippendales and exuberant cheers accompanied the emergence of the
dancers onstage. Emma couldn’t say she blamed the women for getting
excited. The men looked mighty sexy as they shimmied their way down
the steps to greet the audience, though none of the guys were as
hot as the one by her side.

She reached for her
nonalcoholic
bedrocker
and smiled at the man who leaned in to nuzzle her cheek.
“Enjoying the show?” he murmured.

“
Of course. I’d like it much
more if you were up there doing your thing too.”

“
Maybe I’ll do my thing for
you later, in your bedroom.”

“
Hmm.” She sucked on the
little straw in her drink, pretending to consider. “Only if you
wear that red, white and blue thong.”

Shane shuddered just as his
cop replacement strutted behind their table, swinging his
nightstick jauntily at one hip. “Sorry, I burned it.”

“
Such a shame.” She stared
pointedly at the cop, grinning at Shane’s
harrumph
. “Trust me, he’s no
competition. The badge covers everything.”

“
Big badge, little
gun.”

That did it. She dissolved
into giggles that only intensified when he set aside her drink and
tugged her into his lap to feast on her neck.

“
Can I pull your trigger?”
she whispered, rubbing against his prominent erection.

“
Oh yeah, baby. I’m already
loaded and ready—”

The loud clearing of a
throat just behind Shane had Emma glancing up in embarrassment. A
tall man with salt and pepper hair pursed his lips, looking almost
as consternated as Emma felt.

Shit.

“
Hi there,” she said,
clambering off Shane’s lap and grabbing her drink. “You must be…”
She trailed off, unsure if she should let on how much she knew. She
didn’t want to get Shane in trouble with his client.

“
I’m Connor Taylor,” he
said, rescuing her. He held out a hand, which she shook. “You
are?”

“
Emma Donegan. I’m Shane’s—”
When she stumbled, Shane rose and took her hand.

“
Emma’s my girlfriend,” he
said without hesitation.

Though it had only been a
week since Becky’s bachelorette party, she and Shane had spent
every free moment together. Not just having sex either, although
that had taken up plenty of very pleasant hours.

Her run as the woman who
faked more than baked? Over. She’d officially enjoyed the World
Series of orgasms during the last week. She definitely didn’t need
any enhancements to increase her desire for the sexy guy who’d
released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her
against his solid, muscled body. Being tucked against his side felt
right. As if she were where she belonged.

Still, he needed privacy to
handle his business. “I’ll just leave you two alone,” she began,
but Connor shook his head and folded his lanky frame into a chair
on the other side of the table.

“
No, please stay. What I
have to say will be brief. And discretion’s no longer an
issue.”

Shane patted her hip
reassuringly before they both took their seats. “I’m sorry there
hasn’t been more progress. I’d planned to get onstage tonight
before I received your call.”

“
You’ve done more than
enough, Mr. Madison.” He withdrew his checkbook from the briefcase
he carried and whipped out a check so fast Emma figured he had to
have the worst handwriting in the universe. But no, when Connor
slid the check toward Shane, the lettering was neat and precise.
Especially the zeroes.

Lots and lots of
zeroes.

“
Call me Shane. This is way
more than we discussed.” Shane gazed at the check. “Way more. Not
to mention I didn’t give you what you were looking for.”

“
You gave me my relationship
back,” Connor said warmly, leaning forward. “After you investigated
this case and found nothing, you gave me back my peace of mind. My
fiancée isn’t a madam.”

Emma gasped. A
madam
? Her…boyfriend had
believed she looked as if she maintained a stable of
men?

Jeez. That was sort of
hot.

“
Mr. Taylor,” Shane said,
shooting her a sidelong glance. “You realize less than two weeks of
fruitless investigation doesn’t mean much. These things sometimes
take a while.”

“
Ah, yes, I imagine so. But
the friend who put the bug in my ear regarding Maureen’s activities
admitted she was jealous of our permissive relationship and
fabricated her suspicions.”

He droned on for a couple
minutes about phone records and credit card receipts. The whole
thing seemed beyond sketchy to her, but she didn’t really take
notice until he used the word “orgy.” From that point on, her
attention remained glued to Connor.

“
Maureen confessed
everything. Her unusual behavior stemmed from her search for
suitable candidates, but not to farm out to her friends. She sought
candidates for us.”

“
For you?” Emma and Shane
echoed simultaneously.

“
Yes.” Connor nodded. “We
don’t restrict our sex life, Mr. Madison. When need dictates, we
bring others into our bed. Usually women but Maureen sensed I
wanted a change. She bought all those lap dances and talked to all
those men, the ones who called her cell phone at all hours, because
she wanted to find the right men for us to share. The three
specimens she found were simply—”

“
Three?” Emma tried not to
hyperventilate. “Exactly how big is your bed?”

“
More than big enough to
suit, Ms. Donegan. Trust me.”

Shane glanced sharply at
Emma when she made an abrupt choking sound. “If you’re secure in
your relationship and think there’s no reason to continue the case,
I’ll close it. Believe me, I’d like nothing more than to never see
this club again.”

“
Yes, I’m confident there’s
no reason to continue. We discussed everything.” Connor’s gaze
narrowed thoughtfully on Shane. “Maureen saw you dance. She said
you weren’t very good, which is why she didn’t approach you. She
expects a certain level of performance from our thirds.”

And fourths…and
fifths…
Emma lifted a hand to her mouth to
muffle her laughter.

“
She knows you hired a
PI?”

“
I told her everything. She
couldn’t believe I’d gone to such trouble and expense to ascertain
her loyalty. As well as to ensure her moral fortitude.” He flashed
a truly lascivious smile that made Emma’s stomach roil with
distaste. “We’ve decided to get married next month.”

“
How lovely,” Shane said
under his breath.

“
Maureen did say she was
impressed with some of your other assets. She’d be willing to
overlook your lack of dancing ability should you prove acceptable
otherwise.” He directed his gaze toward Emma. “You know, it’s
rather remarkable how much you look like my Maureen.”

Emma shrank back from
Connor’s probing stare while Shane cleared his throat. “Oh, I’m
sure I don’t.”

“
No, you really do.” He
glanced from Emma to Shane and back again. “Say, do you two
ever—”

“
No.” Shane grabbed Emma’s
hand and pulled her to her feet. “Nope, sorry, we’re pretty
traditional. Boring really. Thank you so much for giving me this
case and for your generous payment. I’m thrilled for you and
Maureen. I hope you’ll pass my name along to any of your friends
who need a PI.”

With that, Shane headed for
the exit, dragging Emma in tow.

He didn’t speak until they’d
reached his truck in the parking lot. The neon pink sign of the
club illuminated his pained expression. “I’m sorry you had to hear
that, Emma,” he said, brushing back the curl that sprung across her
cheek in the breeze.

He’d never called her Em
since the mix-up about her identity. Not only did he fuck like a
god, he cooked, he thought she was beautiful, he cared about what
she had to say and didn’t roll his eyes when she went off on
pointless tangents, he thought she was beautiful…

No doubt about it, she’d won
the pseudo-stripper lottery.

“
I’m okay.” She linked her
fingers with his. It was a warm night, bordering on hot, but that
wasn’t why her skin burned whenever they touched. “Are you? You
look a little sick.”

“
I’m all right. Man, how
unreal.” He shook his head. “I’m going to save every penny of this
check so I don’t have to take every weird ass case that comes
along.”

“
No more
stripping?”

He winced. “God,
no.”

“
Still want to be a
PI?”

“
Yeah.” His jaw firmed. “I
do. I think maybe I can become good at it. With time and practice.”
He snaked a hand out and caught his fingers in the pocket of her
pants, tugging her closer. “And you by my side, keeping me on the
straight and narrow.”