Undercover Lovers

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Undercover Lovers Page 17

by Chloe Cole


  Straightforward she would accept. But the rest? Beautiful? Funny? Her? She considered herself socially inept and moderately attractive. But Shane wasn't bullshitting her. She could hear the sincerity in every word he spoke.

  “Sounds like you were the one drugged,” she said, pushing her wayward hair out of her face. “You'll be disappointed when daylight arrives and you see my frizzy curls and my old-fashioned underwear and worst of all, that I have more freckles than curves. Soft lighting hides a lot.”

  “You’re unique. Every part of you. God, I want you again.” He dropped his forehead against hers. “Tell me it’s not just me who feels this way. Tell me you feel it too, Emma.”

  Emma sucked in a breath. “You know, it feels like this is growing strings by the minute.”

  “You’re against strings?”

  “With the men I’ve been involved with? Yes. With you…”

  “With me?” he prompted.

  Better she not address that question right now. They barely knew each other. Granted, that had been a big part of his appeal. “Sleeping with a stripper is the naughtiest thing I’ve ever done.”

  His lips brushed over hers in one silky stroke. She shuddered. “And you’re not ready for the naughty to end, are you?”

  Chapter Six

  Emma didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk anymore.

  “Sure you don’t want to go to the hospital and get checked out?”

  She shook her head. “No need. I don’t think it’s working anymore.”

  If she hadn’t actually taken the drug, clearly some sort of placebo effect had taken place. Now that it had worn off, there was no way she’d be able to light up his night like she had earlier. Which meant she needed to warn him.

  “Shane, normally I’m the type who just kind of…” Oh God, how humiliating. “Lies there.”

  “And thinks of England?” Instead of seeming put off, Shane smiled more broadly against her mouth. She loved that she could feel and hear his smile. The warmth of it made her shivery all over. He drew the shoulder of her top down and skimmed his lips over her skin. “I’d love to see you try.”

  Her nipples drew tight and hard. She’d believed Becky’s magic elixir had magnified her earlier desire but obviously that wasn’t the case. In mere moments, she’d again be on her back in his bed, toes pointed skyward, begging him to take her. Hard, fast. Deep. Just as he’d taken her both times before without any coaching.

  “Lose those clothes,” he murmured, already shedding his own.

  But she didn’t move. She watched him get naked, silhouetted by the fading moonlight, her mouth getting drier and drier. Funny thing that, because all the liquid in her body seemed to have pooled in her pussy. One soft command from him and she became willing and needy and so wet.

  No man had affected her so strongly. She knew she should be frightened now that she couldn’t blame supposed chemical enhancements but instead she felt freer and happier than she’d ever been.

  Without speaking, she pulled her top over her head and sent it flying. She eagerly dispatched her skirt and hated bra and panties—she intended to burn them, even if they were the most comfy set she owned—and then she was standing nude in front of him, her palms traveling up his chiseled torso while his heart kick-started under her lips. His breathing stuttered when she sucked one of his nipples between her teeth and she smiled, thrilled beyond belief that she could arouse such a sexy guy.

  “I ache for you, Emma,” he whispered, tangling his hands in her hair. “Beautiful, funny, straightforward Emma.”

  Before she could reply, he dragged her mouth to his and set about kissing her so thoroughly her mind simply turned off. Lips rubbing, tongue seeking, he slanted his mouth over hers and took her under.

  Desperate to be close, she arched against him, grinding the curves of her body up against the hard angles of his. There was one hard angle she sought particularly, the one that stood away from his groin and felt so steely in her palm when she gripped it.

  “Harder,” he gritted out, his voice barely audible. She savored his groan as her fingers slid up and down his length. “Stroke me harder.”

  Refusing to get nervous, she obeyed. She wouldn’t hurt him. Just because she’d had that unfortunate experience one time when she’d tried to give Ted the kind of hand job he wanted didn’t mean she wasn’t good at them—

  “Ouch.”

  Then again…

  “Sorry,” she muttered, realizing she’d dug her nails into sensitive flesh. “Need to concentrate.”

  “No, what you need to do is relax.” He kissed her again, slowly, deeply. Her worries spun apart like cotton candy, insubstantial and unimportant. He drew a single fingertip down the center of her body, blazing a fiery path. “I’ll slip you a drug of my own.”

  His wicked tone made her laugh. “What drug is that?”

  “This.” He urged her closer to the bed and pushed her backward, sweeping her legs out from under her. He followed her down to the mattress, his mouth traveling along her collarbone and up her neck to her ear. “The drug of you and me, together.”

  Kinda cheesy but sweet just the same.

  Smiling, she reached down to close her hand around his shaft. Somehow he felt even thicker than he’d been just a moment ago. When she looked up and caught him staring between their bodies, she knew he was watching her pale fingers caress his erection. She picked up the pace, adding a bit of pressure as she slipped her other hand between his legs.

  His gasp at her hesitant touch emboldened her to trace his balls with her fingertips. Such delicious weight to them. How would they feel against her tongue? His scent surrounding her, his pleasure completely under her control.

  “Soft touch here,” she murmured, savoring the feel of his sac in her palm, “but hard here,” she said, pulling on his cock. “Right?”

  “Yes.” Then when she gripped his erection tighter, another grunt. “God, yes.”

  She used his exhalations as her guide, slowing down when he seemed too close, speeding up when his tension lessened. He went back to kissing her neck, his rapid breaths scorching her neck in between licks and sucks. His tongue swirled over her pulse point, toyed with her ear, slid along her jaw. When he pressed his thighs more tightly against hers, trapping her between the furnace of his body and the bed, she didn’t shy away from the contact. Instead she reared up and crushed her sensitive breasts to his chest as she seized his mouth with her own.

  Unable to wait any longer, she reached for a condom from the stash he’d left beneath his pillow. His abdomen quivered under her touch. Good. She didn’t want to be the only one shaking. She fumbled as she sheathed him, startling as his sure fingers took over the task. Then he was dipping those fingers into her pussy, sliding them along her swollen flesh, readying her for his entrance. He stroked her clit with his thumb, holding it there while he pushed into her in a slow, endless grind. All the while his gaze remained on her face, as if he were gauging her response.

  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 fo
und 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.”

 

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