Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys

by Annabel Joseph

  Jennifer Bene

  Jennifer Bene is a best-selling author of erotic fiction. Her writing has been described by readers as "dark in a way that turns you on", and she definitely takes that as a compliment! She has a terrible mouth that often gets her in trouble but comes in handy when she's writing. She loves to write strong female characters and dominant male characters in stories that take readers for a walk on the dark side.

  When she's not attached to a keyboard, she likes to read, drink wine, do yoga, binge on Netflix, and enjoy life with friends/family. She lives in Texas, and no, she doesn't own a horse or wear a cowboy hat, you'd have better luck finding her on the dance floor downtown. Seriously.

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  Books by Jennifer Bene

  Dark / BDSM Erotica

  Thalia Series

  Security Binds Her, Book 1

  Striking a Balance, Book 2

  Salvaged by Love, Book 3

  Christmas at Purgatory, extra #1

  Of Fog and Fire

  Taken by the Enemy

  Dark/Paranormal Romance

  Daughters of Eltera Series

  Fae, Book 1

  Tara, Book 2

  BDSM Novellas

  The Invitation

  The Rite

  Reunited

  Anthology Appearances

  Hero Undercover

  The More the Merrier (Menage / BDSM Erotica)

  The Darker Side of Love (Dark / BDSM Erotica)

  Twist (BDSM Erotica)

  The More the Merrier 2 (Menage / BDSM Erotica)

  The Dark Forest: A Collection or Erotic Fairytales

  Social Media Links

  Website - http://jenniferbene.com/

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  Twitter - http://twitter.com/jbeneauthor

  Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/jbeneauthor/

  Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/jbeneauthor

  BookBub - http://www.bookbub.com/authors/jennifer-bene

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  Saving Sarah

  By

  BJ Wane

  ©2017 by Blushing Books® and BJ Wane

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  BJ Wane

  Saving Sarah

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Chapter 1

  “Son of a bitch!” John Lysell fisted his hands as he stared down at the lifeless body of the young girl sprawled on the hay, her sightless gaze frozen on the barn rafters of the hay loft. Swiveling his angry glare toward Rufus, he noted the lack of remorse on his face, along with the gleaming satisfaction in his cold, dark eyes. “This is the third one in less than two months. You know damn good and well how much money your lack of restraint is going to cost.”

  “Jesus, what’s the fucking big deal?” Rufus sneered as he zipped up his pants. “She’s just merchandise, and there are more where she came from.”

  John was tempted to go ahead and slip a knife between the bastard’s ribs and be done with it, but he preferred to wait for the boss’s instructions. No need to jeopardize his own position with the lucrative operation. “Boss had a buyer for this one, a wealthy one who likes ‘em young and untouched. Harris will be pissed at the delay this will cost, and if that buyer bails and goes elsewhere, it’ll be your ass on the line.” Cutting a hand toward the girl, he snapped, “Take care of this, and make damn sure she’s not found.”

  Sidling down the ladder, John strode passed the closed stall doors, ignoring the sniffles coming from behind them. Stepping out into the stifling Texas heat, he pulled out his cell and punched in a number he knew by heart. Pacing around the abandoned, dilapidated barn, he waited for an answer.

  “What’s up?”

  “You’re not going to like it,” John replied.

  He heard Glenard Harris swear before the mayor bit out, “Tell me.”

  “Our highest priced piece is dead. Komp.” No sense in beating around the bush, John thought.

  “Tell me you’re fucking kidding me! Another overdose?”

  “You got it. What do you want me to do?”

  Closing his office door, Glenard resumed his seat behind his desk, rotated his chair, and stared out the huge window overlooking the town’s park below. His cushy job as mayor of Piedmont, Texas, may mean he could spend his days on the golf course while ruling over the peons, but he couldn’t retire in a style he craved. Hence, his little sideline. He knew damn well how his buyer was going to take this news, and what the delay in delivering this shipment was going to cost, and didn’t hesitate to make the next decision. “Take care of him, soon.” Hanging up, the mayor dialed another number from his untraceable, secure phone and prepared to suck up some of his profit in order to keep this generous buyer in his pocket. It would take a few weeks to replace what they’d lost, but he’d make sure he made the wait worthwhile for his client.

  Sarah Thompson awoke to her 4:00 am alarm on the morning of her thirty-second birthday struck with a sad epiphany. She did not want to face another day of her boring life. Todd, the only person she employed to work with her in her bakery, had noticed her recent moodiness and had been after her to get out more, do something other than bake. It took attending her fifteen-year high school reunion yesterday and learning she was the only one in her class of eighty-two who hadn’t married, followed by yet another birthday to get her to finally listen. She was tired of facing each day with nothing to look forward to, no husband, no kids, not even a dog. The facts staring her in the face were depressing, but only she could change them.

  Sarah had never been married, engaged, or even had a torrid love affair, for God’s sake. “Sheesh, when was the last time I even had sex?” she asked aloud into the still darkness of her bedroom. Thinking back, it appalled her to realize it’d been over four years. She’d been out on her third date with Bob Norris, who ran the local hardware store, and desperate to find a reason to keep seeing the pleasant man who bored her to tears. The hour they spent between the sheets hadn’t done it and they went back to being just friends.

  With a despondent sigh, Sarah rolled out of bed and stumbled into the hall bathroom. Flipping on the light, she stared at herself in the mirror, not liking what she saw. Only one word came to mind that described both herself and her life. Drab. Lifting a handful of mousy brown hair, she wrinkled her nose at the drab color. Glancing down at her prim, knee length white nightgown, she bemoaned the drab garment that wasn’t any more exciting than the rest of
the clothes in her closet. Looking back in the mirror, she cocked her head, thinking her eyes were her best feature. Wide and cornflower blue, they were the only thing about her boring face that stood out.

  “Okay, so you’re a pathetic, thirty-two-year-old, spinster baker. Just what the heck do you plan to do about it?” she asked her reflection. All she’d ever wanted was a normal life, someone to come home to at the end of a long day, babies who would make her breasts useful for something other than to fill out her clothes.

  Sex. She craved hot, sweaty, animal grunting, mind-numbing sex. The kind you want so badly you’re willing to play hooky from work to roll around naked in the middle of the afternoon. Her stomach clenched, as did her sheath, at just the thought. Desperation sparked her determination, but how? She needed change, but how much, in what form? It wasn’t like God was handing out miracles that would help her land a husband. But that’s what she wanted. She yearned for a man and family of her own, a life worth waking up to each morning, and she wouldn’t get it unless something changed. Her. It was past time she pulled up her big girl panties, changed what she could about her appearance and went on the hunt.

  A shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine. Could she really hit the local night clubs looking for a man who’d give her the life she’s wanting? Other than her penchant for speeding, Sarah had always been a good girl, and the thought of going to a bar with the sole intention of picking up a man set her heart to racing. But what choice did she have? Piedmont, the small Texas town she’d grown up in, boasted a population of just under six thousand, and the eligible men she’d already taken for a test drive had flunked. The rest were either too old, too young or too disreputable, definitely not the quiet, stable man she was looking for.

  After seeing to her morning ablutions, Sarah trounced back to her bedroom and jerked on yet another pair of loose, soft denim jeans that lacked style but were comfortable and easily washed after a morning spent baking in a hot kitchen. Yanking a bright yellow tee with Sunshine Bakery splashed in bold, black letters across the front off a hangar and over her head, she vowed to take Todd up on his offer to take her shopping at the big mall in Alpine, the closest city of any size to Piedmont. With her gay co-worker’s help, her birthday present to herself was a promise to turn her life around.

  “Happy birthday, boss. Oversleep?” Todd greeted her ten minutes later when she skipped downstairs from her apartment and stepped into the kitchen of her bakery. For the first time since she’d opened her small business, she was late.

  “No, just wrestling with some changes I’m thinking about.” Slipping an apron over her head, she joined him in pulling out ingredients for their daily batch of assorted donuts, pastries and breakfast sandwiches as she slid him a sly glance. “What would you say about you and I spending our day off working on a complete make-over for me?” She burst out laughing at the comical drop of his jaw and widening of his eyes before he raised a fisted hand and punched the air with a loud whoop.

  “All right! It’s about fucking time.”

  Frowning, she waved a wooden spoon at him. “A quarter in the swear jar, and thank you.”

  An hour later, dawn had yet to peek over the horizon when a sharp rap on the glass pane of the bakery’s front door startled Sarah out of going over the mental list of things she wanted to change about herself while she kneaded a large ball of bread dough. Blowing upward to get the loosened strands of hair out of her face, she sighed in frustration. That could only be Chief Nolan stopping by for his daily bag of donuts. The man seemed to think, because he was the police chief, he could command she open an hour early every morning just to accommodate his schedule. And so far, he had been right because she didn’t have the nerve to tell him no.

  “Coming,” she called out, snatching a towel to wipe her hands the best she could as she strode from the kitchen to the front of the bakery. She wished she hadn’t sent Todd to the twenty-four-hour market for a few supplies. Unlocking the door, she flung it open and glared up, way up, at her nemesis. Her pulse spiked under the slow stroke of his pewter eyes that was as potent as a caress, a reaction she should be used to by now, but wasn’t. With her new resolve in place, Sarah refused to be waylaid by the man, law or not. “Chief, what can I get you this morning?” Stepping aside, she let him in.

  “Good morning to you too, Sarah.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out two tickets as she edged behind the counter. Setting them down, he tilted his Stetson back with a thumb, giving her a better view of a rugged face bronzed by sun and wind and capped with coal black hair. “You haven’t paid these.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy, I forgot.” Picking up the speeding tickets, she winced at the fines. “I can come in this afternoon and take care of them.”

  Leaning on the counter, he replied in that slow drawl that never failed to curl her toes. “Someone should’ve taken you over their knee a long time ago.”

  “Chief! You can’t talk to me that way! What if someone heard you?” she hissed in alarm. That look and hint of a threat set her heart to hammering with uncertainty, which didn’t concern her near as much as the sudden warm gush between her legs. She didn’t even like the man, for pity’s sake.

  “No one’s around.” Straightening, he pointed to the chocolate long johns. “Give me three of those and a large coffee to go.”

  “Don’t you have coffee at the precinct?” she grumbled, wishing she didn’t have to take the time to brew a pot before getting him out of there. The damn man was crowding her space and that comment eluding to a spanking had her so rattled she couldn’t think straight. His teasing innuendos had never been so suggestive before.

  “Of course, but it sucks.”

  Handing him the bag with his donuts, she quipped in a tart voice, “The coffee will take a few minutes. Excuse me, I need to see to something in the meantime.” She felt his eyes on her as she practically stomped down the short hall then dashed into the storeroom.

  “Arrogant jerk.” Sarah climbed up on the step stool to reach for a ten-pound bag of flour, trying to ignore the warm flush enveloping her body. “Must be a case of early onset menopause.”

  Travis stepped inside the compact room, chiding, “You’re too young for any kind of menopause.” Her startled jerk ended in a shriek as she teetered on the stool, the heavy bag slipping from her grasp. Rushing forward, he caught both the bag and the woman before either could fall. “Why the hell didn’t you ask for help?”

  Pulling out of his one arm hold, Sarah snapped, “I was fine until you popped in uninvited. I can take that.”

  “And so can I.” He took a step forward, backing her against the shelves as he hefted the bag on his shoulder. Bending his head, he whispered a double innuendo in her ear, “Where do you want it?”

  “On the kitchen counter. I’ll get your coffee.” Sarah released a sigh of relief when he stepped back while she tried to ignore his knowing smirk as well as her pounding heart, sweaty palms and tingling body parts.

  Returning to the front of the bakery, she poured his coffee into a to-go cup, reminding herself of her new goal of landing a husband. One who wasn’t so tall he towered over her five foot four-inch frame, who wasn’t so wide and hard he could crush her beneath him and who wasn’t so arrogant. Quiet, unassuming and steadfast, that’s who she was looking for, someone not… him.

  “Here you go.” Handing him the coffee, she rang it up and took his payment. “Have a nice day, Chief.”

  “Pay those tickets today, Ms. Thompson.”

  Travis slid behind the wheel of his police-issued SUV, tossing the bag of sweet treats onto the passenger seat, a grin still wanting to tug at the corners of his mouth. Sarah Thompson’s prim and proper tone once again clashed with the flustered look of arousal and still stirred his lust even after hearing and seeing them for several months. Even wearing loose jeans, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and face devoid of makeup, she packed a punch to his libido he was dying to act on. He’d even found the smudge of flour on
her cheek tempting. He couldn’t help following her down the hall, her muttering about menopause almost enticing him to laugh aloud. He could’ve sworn her indrawn breath when he’d whispered in her ear had ended with a cute little growl of frustration. His cock twitched as he imagined that exact sound coming from her after he’d strapped her down on his special bench at home for an hour.

  Travis’s good mood from sparring with Sarah evaporated the minute he parked in front of his small precinct and saw who sat waiting for him. Sliding out of his police issued SUV, he didn’t spare Peter Campbell, his ex-boss at the Texas Bureau of Investigations, a glance as he strode inside, tossing over his shoulder, “Let me help save your breath and your time. The answer’s no.” Letting the door shut in Peter’s face, he nodded to Carrie, the night dispatcher, on his way back to his office.

  Settling behind his desk, he dug out another long john, fuming at the memories seeing Peter again conjured up. He had spent ten of his fifteen years with the TBI undercover, forced to sit back and watch one atrocity after another because his false identity and end goal prevented him from stepping in. When the position of Police Chief opened in his home town, hundreds of miles away from Austin, six months ago, he’d snatched it up and had been blissfully happy with his choice.

  As Travis knew he would, Peter walked into his office, shut the door behind him and held up a placating hand. “Five minutes. That’s all I ask.”

  “Fine, but my answer will still be the same. And I’m not sharing my donuts.” Peter knew him well enough to know he meant what he said, so Travis was surprised when he opened the manila envelope he held and pulled out a glossy, eight by ten photo. Shit. Gut churning, he refused to look down at it when Peter laid it in front of him.