G-Men: The Series

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G-Men: The Series Page 51

by ANDREA SMITH


  We’d both crawled under the sheets, kissing and then falling asleep. I hated that I couldn’t make love to her before I left for Baltimore. Hell, if things were delayed there, it could very possibly mean she’d be on her menstrual period again by the time I got back. This damn bust better go down without a hitch.

  She’d mentioned Dirty Diana to me last night. Slate was going to hear about that shit, regardless of his rank over me. I was going to come clean with him about Lindsey and me, too. There was no reason for us to sneak around, now that it had been established we were more than fuck buddies.

  I felt her stir beneath my arms, her legs stretching under the sheets. I lowered my lips to the back of her neck, lifting her hair to plant soft, butterfly kisses on her smooth skin. I felt her shiver against me.

  “Hey, baby girl,” I said against her skin.

  “Hey, Taz,” she replied, pulling my hand to her lips, “can we stay in bed like this all day?’

  I groaned, pulling her closer. “I wish we could, babe,” but I think I’m going to have to get up and get you going. It’s almost ten o’clock.”

  “What? Oh shit,” she said, pulling away and launching her body out of the bed.

  “Hey, hey,” I said, “why the hurry? I thought we’d at least have breakfast together.”

  “I’d love to, baby,” she said, “but I planned on getting home around nine.”

  “Slate’s there,” I persisted. “Besides that, aren’t you a little old for a curfew?”

  “Sweats,” she mumbled, looking around.

  “What?”

  “I need a pair of your sweats. I’m not putting my dress back on and traipsing in the house like that. I left my overnight bag in Darcy’s car. I need sweats.”

  “Hold on,” I said, feeling grumpy that she was going to blow out of here so quickly.

  I pulled a pair of clean sweats from my drawer. They were going to be humongous on her. She tied the drawstring tight and rolled the cuffs up on the bottom.

  “Oh shit,” she said, sitting back down on the bed. “Déjà vu all over again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She slipped her high-heels on and looked over at me with a quirky smile.

  “Don’t you remember the first night I stayed here and puked all over my bridesmaid gown? I went home in a pair of your sweats with high heels on.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “You know, I never did get those back.”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m sure they went through the laundry and Slate’s wearing them now. You’re both around the same size in most places.”

  I looked over at her and she had a shit-eating grin going on. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I have a gut or something?”

  I leaned into her and started tickling her tummy.

  “No,” she laughed. “I’m talking about something south of that.”

  “What?”

  “I accidently walked in on Slate in the bathroom yesterday. I saw his private parts.”

  “Oh, so now you’re calling it ‘private parts,’ Ms. Prissy?”

  “On him, that’s what I call it. On you, it’s something else entirely.”

  “Yeah, yeah rub it in,” I said, swatting her on the butt. “Back in the day, I heard various women in Slate’s old harem bragging about how well he’s hung.”

  “Trust me,” she said, giving me a sexy wink, “Slate doesn’t measure up to you, Taz. Close, but no cigar.”

  “You little shit,” I said, laughing and tackling her on the bed. “You shouldn’t have been looking at his junk.”

  “Hello! I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  She was on her back now, her hair all spread out around her. I hovered over her, lowering my lips to hers and fisting my hand in her hair. She laced her arms around my neck, clinging against me with her softness. We kissed gently.

  “I’m going to miss you, baby girl.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Trace.”

  It was strange hearing her call me by anything other than ‘Taz.’ I liked the sound of my given name on her lips. She sat back up and I immediately pulled her into my lap, stroking her hair.

  “Stay and have breakfast with me then.”

  “Ohh,” she moaned softly. “I would if I could, but I have an assignment due for Physics class that I’ve totally blown off and I have to have it done today.”

  “It’s not like you have someone breathing down your neck like a professor.”

  “Taz, I have to submit it for my grade by five o’clock. I’m really struggling. I set up a ‘face-time’ with my study buddy at two o’clock, so he can help me with some of the formula interpretations before I submit it.”

  “Who the hell’s your study buddy?”

  I saw her hesitation and I knew immediately who it was. I wanted to hear it from her.

  “It’s Kyzer,” she replied, pulling herself up and off of my lap.

  “Lindsey. What the fuck? Haven’t I told you to steer clear of him?”

  She walked over to the chair in my bedroom, gathering up her purse and jacket. “It’s not like we’re going to be in the same room. We’re a hundred and forty miles apart. Come on. He’s the best in the class and he offered.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he did,” I ranted. “So, there’s no one else you could’ve approached?”

  “Not really,” she replied. “If you recall, the semester had barely started. Kyzer’s the only one I know and he’s the bomb when it comes to science stuff.”

  Yeah, if she only knew.

  “I don’t know,” I continued. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Taz, I don’t need your permission to have a study buddy, even if it is Kyzer. There’s no proof that he’s anything but what he appears to be. Do you know something I don’t?”

  I couldn’t say shit to her about what I knew because nothing was conclusive yet. I could only tell her what my instincts knew for sure.

  “I just feel as if he cannot and should not be trusted. There are too many coincidences.”

  “You’re trained to suspect everyone until you weed out evidence, right?”

  “More or less, but Lindsey—”

  “But Lindsey, nothing,” she interrupted, coming over to the side of the bed and settling back down into my lap. “I really think my G-Man is being swayed by testosterone in this case. But I promise I’ll have no contact with him other than electronically and for study purposes only. Okay?”

  I nodded, still not feeling good about it. Hell, I’d always done well in Physics. I wished like the devil we could postpone this deal for one day and I would fucking stay here and help her with the damn formulas.

  “Just see that you do. I don’t want you answering any questions he asks not related directly to the subject matter, okay?”

  “I promise,” she replied, kissing the tip of my nose. “Now, will you please drive me home?”

  I did so reluctantly. I wasn’t ready to part with her yet. I didn’t like the thought of a one or two week absence from her. This was definitely a first.

  Luckily, I’d hard-wired the GPS tracker in her car when we had arrived back in Falls Church, not that I intended to use it for “stalking” purposes. It did provide some peace of mind, though.

  “Do you want me to drop you off a little ways from your house?” I asked her, trying to be considerate, in light of the situation. I fully intended to be the one to let Slate know the score.

  “Gee,” she replied, getting an impish grin on her face, “I could’ve just called my pimp from your house and had him meet me on the corner to drive me home.”

  She was such a smart-ass at times, but funny as hell. That was sexy.

  “Gosh, do you think Daddy Slate is going to ground me?” she asked, batting her eyes at me.

  I pulled my car into the driveway, pulling her over to me. “Smart ass,” I whispered against her sweet mouth. “Be good, okay?”

  “I
will. I want you be careful, okay?”

  “Always am,” I said, giving her a final kiss. “I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  chapter 33

  I practically stumbled through the front door, one of my heels catching on the rolled up cuff of the still too-long sweats. I could hear Slate and Bryce in the kitchen. For once, luck was on my side as I crept on up the stairs and hit the shower.

  I hated washing Taz’s scent off of me, but knowing Slate and his well-honed senses, he’d pick up on it. I preferred letting Taz handle the PR on our relationship.

  I dressed in a pair of my own sweats and went back downstairs to check out the situation with Slate and Bryce. It was all good. I peeked in on Mom and she was dozing off again. The pain meds she was still taking seemed to knock her out.

  I told Slate I’d be upstairs starting my Physics assignment. He said he was good to hang with Bryce for a while and to take all the time I needed.

  I started my lesson plan, hoping I could make some progress before Kyzer and me face-timed on our iPads. The content we were studying was magnetic fields. My eyes glazed over ten minutes into it.

  At two o’clock sharp, my iPad chimed with his incoming call.

  “Hey, Lindsey,” he greeted warmly. “How’s it going?”

  “Not well,” I admitted, “I’m really struggling with all this stuff about charges moving parallel versus perpendicular to the magnetic fields.”

  For the next hour, Kyzer went over the study material with me. He was really great at showing examples of how the same concepts we studied in electric fields with the exception that all magnetic fields have both a north pole and a south pole, equal in strength. His visual examples helped with my understanding the concepts.

  As we wound up the conversation, I felt more confident that I could get through the rest of the material and submit my assignment for a passing grade.

  “Thank you so much, Kyzer. I was actually considering dropping this class.”

  “I’m happy to help. How’s everything else going there? Is your mother feeling any better?”

  I remembered Taz cautioning me on sharing info, so I made it as general as possible.

  “She’s resting well, so hopefully I’ll be back on campus in the near future.”

  “That’s great,” he said earnestly. “I wish I could say the same thing about my father. He seems to be slipping away more every day.”

  “Oh, Kyzer, I’m sorry. That must be tough.”

  “My stepmother has moved him to a facility in Atlanta. She had to assume the responsibility of managing the operations at the research and development facility he opened there a few years back. She wanted him close. They have a condo there, but he’s at the point where he needs around-the-clock care.”

  I really felt for him. He’d lost his mother at such a young age and now his dad, who wasn’t all that old. He’d told me before that he was an only child.

  “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know?”

  I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I knew Taz would be shaking his head and bitching at me if he knew I’d said that. Still, Kyzer had never been anything but kind and caring, where I was concerned. Taz was only passing judgment based on his instincts, or so he said. I still thought it was a ‘male’ thing.

  “Thanks Lindsey, having someone to talk to helps more than you know. I guess I just need someone to listen.”

  Listening wasn’t dangerous. Listening wasn’t too much for him to ask. I could do listening.

  “Anytime,” I replied. “Whenever you need to talk about this, call me. I’m here.”

  “Thank you. Good luck with your assignment. Let me know when you want to do another study together.”

  “Will do, Kyzer.”

  We signed off and I finished the unit assignment and uploaded it to the website.

  I was lying across my bed taking a breather. I heard my phone beep next to me. I picked it up, seeing I had a text message. It was from Taz. I smiled.

  ‘R u still studying with Poindexter?’

  I immediately texted him back that I’d finished and was considering taking a short ‘power nap.’

  ‘I have a better idea.’ He responded in his next text.

  ‘Do tell?’ I responded.

  For the next twenty minutes Taz and I had some steamy “sexting” going on. I was amazed at the sweet little orgasm it generated. Now I really did need a nap.

  chapter 34

  ~ TAZ ~

  Slate and I were on our way to Baltimore just a little after 6:00 on Tuesday morning. Both of our asses seemed to be dragging for similar reasons.

  We discussed our schedule for the day. We were picking up separate vehicles in Columbia, less than an hour south of Baltimore. As usual, I got to drive the old beater, while Slate was posing as a rich big-shot who wanted in on a sweet deal that Hatfield had been working on with his longshoreman buddies on the dock.

  I was picking up Dee Dee in Columbia; she came with the beater.

  “Looks like you’re already dressed for the part, Taz,” Slate said, eyeing my tattered plaid flannel work shirt. I’d put on a pair of worn out, mustard yellow Carhart work pants. The knees were nearly worn clear through.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ve got more clothing like this packed away in my duffel. If Dee Dee and I are going to be bar hopping around the docks the next couple of nights, I’ve got to look the part.”

  Slate smiled, shaking his head. “I think the clothing is a tactical move on your part to keep Dirty Diana off your nuts.”

  “You know, one of these days, somebody’s going to slip and call Dee Dee that to her face and she’s not going to appreciate it.”

  “Since when have you become all politically correct?”

  He looked over at me from behind the wheel of his truck. He was studying me.

  “I’ve never had anything going with Dee Dee,” I said. “I just don’t appreciate the innuendos. What she chooses to do with the other guys in the bureau is her business. I just don’t want to be associated with any of it.”

  “What the hell’s up your ass?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s up my ass, man. That comment you made to me on the phone the other day about my staying late at the shooting range because of her, calling me a horny bastard like that in front of Lindsey.”

  “What the…” and I watched as the realization sunk in and Slate got with the program.

  “Tell me you’re not sleeping with my wife’s daughter, please?”

  I didn’t say a word. I turned my head and gazed out the passenger window.

  “Fuck! Jesus Christ!”

  I have a feeling Slate’s not happy about this.

  “I fucking knew it,” he said, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. “I knew it that morning she came in looking all upset and disheveled. I told you then how I felt about it. So, it’s been going on all this time? You’ve been fucking her since last Thanksgiving?”

  “No,” I snapped, looking back over at him. “We got together at Christmas. In case you don’t know, Lindsey’s an adult, and I’d like to know why the fuck my best friend’s so pissed and offended that she and I are seeing one another.”

  “Because,” he halfway snarled, “her mother’s going to be upset about it and, if she’s upset, then I get upset.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh? So Sammie doesn’t like me? Is that it?”

  “No, that’s not it. Sammie thinks you’re great—just not with her daughter.”

  I looked over at him, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Look,” he said, “it’s just because she knows Lindsey’s young and so inexperienced. I mean, for Chrissake, up until Christmas she was a freaking virgin. Sammie still thinks she is.”

  “It’s not what you think,” I said to him.

  “How do you know what I think?”

  “Because you’re upset, man. This thing between Lindsey and me isn
’t just sexual. We care about each other. I can’t think Sammie would have a problem with that.”

  He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “For now, can we agree that we keep Sammie out of the loop? I don’t want her stressed about anything.”

  “Fine, no problem.”

  Slate and I picked up our vehicles in Columbia. Dee Dee and I had a room at some flea bag motel near the docks. She was filing her nails and cracking her chewing gum on the ride into Baltimore.

  “So, Taz,” she said, blowing nail dust off of her fingertips and gazing over at me all wide-eyed. “That was some sweet shooting you did at the range last week. Expecting you might need to use your Glock this trek?”

  “Never know, Dee Dee,” I replied. “I hope not.”

  “You know what’s crazy?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Outta all the guys in the bureau, you’re like the only one that doesn’t call me Dirty Diana. I like that.”

  I turned abruptly to look over at her. She had a smirk on her face.

  “For Chrissake,” she said with her faux Brooklyn accent. “What type of a freaking agent would I be if my head was that far up my ass? I’ve known for a while about the nickname assigned to me.”

  “So, it doesn’t bother you?” I asked her.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “The only thing that bothers me, Agent Matthews, is that you could screw every female recruit on base or every female cadet at the FBI academy, and the only thing they’re going call you is a stud. For chicks, things haven’t changed too much over the past say, seventy years, in that respect.”

  “Why the tag ‘dirty,’ I’m curious?”

  She smiled, popping her gum.

  “It’s got nothin’ to do with hygiene, if that’s what’s got you worried,” she replied, giving me a flirty wink. “It’s because I play dirty…in the field and in the bed. You interested in finding out just how down and dirty I can get, Agent Matthews?” She followed that up with a wicked, little laugh.

  “I’ll pass,” I replied.

  “Well, that’s a new one,” she said, laughing again. “From what I heard about you, your prowess is legendary, right up there with Slater’s.”

 

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