The bartender came over, and she asked for a glass of water. Then she turned back to Jimmy. “We both have jobs to do. It’s probably best if we pretend not to know each other.”
“We know what my job is, but I still have no clue what you’re doing. What the hell kind of story are you chasing?”
She inhaled deeply. “I’m working on a story about high-class escorts and the men who hire them.”
In one fell swoop, the pieces came together and his muscles locked. He forced his jaw to move, praying that he was jumping to conclusions and she’d call him an idiot. “Are you here as a fucking hooker?”
She raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m here as an escort. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go mingle.”
Moira stepped around him and walked away. He set his glass on the bar so he wouldn’t crush it in his hand. Counting to twenty, he took slow breaths and willed his body to relax. She was going to make him explode, and his cover would be shot to shit. It would be career suicide to fuck it up now.
He grabbed his glass again and swallowed the contents in one gulp. All he had to do was pretend he didn’t know Moira. What was a little more acting when he was in this deep?
For the next twenty minutes, he walked the perimeter of the room making eye contact with few people. The banquet hall felt like a cage, and the other men in the room were his enemies. He watched as Moira interacted with a variety of men. One by one, guys sidled up to her, handing her a drink, which thankfully she was smart enough not to consume.
She’d tilt her head and let out a light little laugh that reached his ears over the noise of conversation around him. His entire body was in tune with her.
Then Tim returned and that was when Jimmy’s last ounce of patience slipped away. Tim slid his arm around Moira’s waist and tried to lead her away from the crowd. She danced sideways and patted his chest, but Tim wouldn’t let up.
Jimmy began his trek toward them, trying to figure out how to approach without blowing his cover, when another woman entered the picture and distracted Tim. As soon as Tim turned his back, Moira ducked away.
She wasn’t quite quick enough to escape Jimmy, though. He caught her elbow and propelled her toward the elevator. “We’re done partying for tonight.”
“Wait.” She relaxed the arm he held and cuddled up next to him. “I think she’s here.”
He started, confused. He’d expected her to yell at him. “Who?”
“The mystery woman I told you about. I think I caught a glimpse of her, but then that asshole Tim got in the way.” She ran a finger down the front of his jacket and looked up at him from under heavy lids.
Who the hell was she putting on a show for?
“Get the hell out of here and I’ll go back and look.”
Her forehead crinkled. “No way.”
“What does she look like?” He stepped away from her and craned his head to look at the crowd in the room. It was too coincidental for it not to matter. “Are you sure she’s here?”
“ No.”
“Shit. Come here.” He pulled Moira flush with his body and pulled out his phone to text Gabby. If James Buchanan was supposed to be interested in escorts, texting instead of groping one wouldn’t help his case. He kept the phone low to their hips and sent the text.
Gabby responded immediately that she had surveillance and photos of each guest so they could figure out the woman’s identity.
Jimmy lowered his head and whispered in Moira’s ear. “We’re leaving now.”
“You can leave. I’m not. I’m working.”
“You’re wrong on multiple counts. You are leaving, and you are most definitely done with this kind of work.” He’d already pressed the elevator button, and when the doors swooshed open, he pushed Moira inside, blocking her escape with his own body.
“This is kidnapping.”
He pressed his body against hers, pushing her against the wall. Her body was familiar, even though the face wasn’t. Except the eyes. She still had Moira’s eyes. “You can have me arrested later. There is no fucking way you’re staying at a party where the men all think you’re a hooker.”
She rolled her eyes and he growled. He wrapped his hand around her jaw and forced her to look at him. “This isn’t a game. You think Tim back there was bad? That was nothing.”
The elevator dinged when they approached the lobby, but neither of them moved. Fear had returned to Moira’s eyes, and he didn’t know if it was the realization of the truth he spoke or him that put it there.
He released her and stuck out his arm to hold the door. When she joined him, he put an arm around her shoulder and said quietly, “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
Moira swallowed hard. Anger and tension rolled off Jimmy so hard she thought they might knock her over. Of course she’d known that pretending to be an escort had some risk involved, but she hadn’t truly considered it. She attended the party with a group, she had backup, and it was a public place. She had no intention of going home with anyone.
Oh shit. She left the party without letting Jenny know. “Wait,” she said to Jimmy. She dug out her phone and sent Jenny a text letting her know that she was leaving. She thought briefly about making a joke about Jimmy having to pay her for leaving with him, but she knew he wouldn’t find it funny.
Something in his eyes, the intensity with which he spoke in the elevator, unraveled her. This wasn’t just about his case, no matter what he said.
“Do you have your car here?”
“Nope. I arrived in a limo.” Crap. She should’ve just said she got a ride. Her freaking big mouth.
His step faltered for a minute. “Why?”
“Because the girls I came with all shared one.”
“The girls you came with.” He handed his valet ticket to the attendant. “What girls?”
She put an arm around his waist and went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I missed you last night.”
“Don’t change the subject. What girls?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Moira.”
“I’m not trying to, but you’re already kind of mad, and I’m fairly certain this will only make it worse.”
He spun her so they were face-to-face again. “Kind of mad doesn’t begin to describe me. I’m fucking furious, pissed off, and borderline homicidal.”
She gulped again, not doubting a word he said. Luckily, the valet pulled up in his car and held the door open for her. She offered him a friendly smile and sat down.
After tipping the valet, Jimmy joined her.
“Promise you won’t yell.”
“I can’t promise that.” He pulled out into the weekend traffic of downtown Chicago.
She closed her eyes and spoke as quickly as her tongue would allow. “After I got the idea for the story on high-class escorts, I contacted a few companies to interview for a job. One called me back and hired me. I was at the party tonight as one of their escorts.” She sucked in a breath and then remembered to add quickly, “There’s no requirement to be a prostitute, and I had no intention of sleeping with anyone.”
Moira kept her eyes tightly closed, prepared for the bellowing. Her hands fisted in her lap, and she tried to remember she shouldn’t have to defend her actions or her career to Jimmy. They’d barely been on a couple of dates.
When silence continued to press on her, she squinted her left eye. Jimmy’s hands gripped the wheel so tightly the veins on his hands bulged. His severe intensity was focused on the road in front of them, and she prayed no one would do anything like cut him off.
Moira watched cars drive past them, people dressed for a night out on the town. She and Jimmy matched the attire but this wasn’t them. They would never be the couple who dressed in fancy clothes to hang out at some downtown bar.
A faint buzzing sounded, and Jimmy’s hand left the wheel briefly to fish out his phone. He still said nothing. The silence clawed at her. She was never good at being quiet.
&nb
sp; “Yeah,” he snapped out. “What? Who?”
Moira turned in her seat to gauge what was going on. Jimmy glanced at her.
“Fuck. Okay.” He jammed the off button on his phone. “Change in plans. We’re going to another hotel.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a tail. Someone is following us and we don’t know who or why. Our best guess is someone is following because they bought your act as hooker. Good job.”
She shrank back into her seat. This was the side of Jimmy she’d heard about but never witnessed.
Muttered curses continued to stream from his mouth. He pulled into another fancy hotel and handed the valet his keys. He strode into the hotel with his arm around Moira, but she’d never felt him so distant.
At least not since they’d kissed the first time. She watched him closely as he paid for a room. Most people would see James Buchanan, stiff businessman, but she saw Jimmy O’Malley, uptight cop. With the key card in one hand, he put his other arm around her shoulder again. Until they got into the elevator.
He dropped his arm, pulling his warmth away with him. She knew better than to say anything because they both needed to put on a show, but in the privacy of the hotel room, she’d tell him exactly what was on her mind.
Which was what?
She stared openly at him, turned on in a way she knew she shouldn’t be, but bossy Jimmy doing his cop thing was pretty sexy.
Shaking her head when the elevator stopped, she formed more appropriate thoughts. Jimmy had no right to pull her from the party. She had every bit as much at stake as he did. They were both trying to build their careers. His was not more important.
He slid the key card into the door, and she followed him into the room silently. She pushed the door closed with a loud thud, and he reached behind her to utilize the extra locks.
Moira didn’t even get a chance to make her argument. Jimmy’s body pressed hers against the door and he kissed her. Hard and desperate. His tongue invaded her mouth and woke up every nerve in her body.
Her anger dissipated and melted away as she took everything Jimmy gave her. His hands were frenzied on her body as if they hadn’t seen each other for months. As if he needed to memorize everything about her. He was rough, but not mean as he grabbed her and rubbed against her bare skin as he reached under her dress.
When his hand reached for her panties, her eyes fluttered closed. He never moved more than mere inches away from her, his entire being assaulted her senses, overwhelming her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard buzzing and thought she was losing consciousness. Was it possible to get so turned on she could pass out?
Jimmy dragged away from her with yet another mumbled curse. His hand cradled her jaw until she opened and focused her eyes on him. His other hand held his phone. “Don’t move.”
She swallowed hard. Moving wasn’t an option. Some of her faculties weren’t in working order. She no longer had the ability to think or function when his dick was in touching distance—she’d been dick-motized.
The word popped into her head and Moira giggled. Jimmy shot her a confused look over his shoulder. She would never let him know he held that power. She’d known girls in college who had been dick-motized. Moira and Kathy made jokes about it. How could a cock make a girl stupid?
But now she knew.
Jimmy began pacing farther and farther from the door, and although he’d told her not to move, she was pretty sure the spell had been broken. He rubbed a hand roughly over his head and then tugged his tie off.
She eased away from the door and went to the bathroom to get herself together. The dynamic between her and Jimmy was off the charts. She’d been right when she told him at the block party that things between them would be explosive. Somehow in her head, though, she thought the sexual charge would replace the rest of the head butting and snipping they participated in.
After filling a glass with water from the sink, she sat on the edge of the bed. Jimmy had finished his call and stood in front of the windows.
“Our tail is sitting outside waiting, so we have to be in here a believable amount of time. Then . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fuck. I can’t go home if they’re still here. James Buchanan wouldn’t live in that neighborhood.” He continued talking as if to himself. “They must not have followed me before if they’re still interested. If we’re lucky, the thieves plan to follow me home in order to break in after they assess my house. See if I’m a good target.”
Moira didn’t respond. If he couldn’t go home, could she? Would it mess up his case?
“I hate to do this, but do you think you can call Griffin and ask him if I can use his condo? I called earlier in the week, and he hasn’t responded. I need someplace for James Buchanan to live.” Jimmy still hadn’t turned around to face her. His entire body remained tense like he was in a constant battle.
“Sure. I think Ryan said he’s been out of town, but I can call.” She dug her phone out again and dialed Griffin.
“Hi, Moira. What do you need?”
Why did people always answer the phone like that when she called? Then she looked at the clock and cringed, wondering what time it was for him. “Hey, I hope I’m not calling too late, but I have a huge favor to ask. It’s gonna sound weird.”
“I’m used to your weird. Shoot.”
“Can Jimmy O’Malley use your condo?”
“Shit. I got a call from him earlier in the week and I sent the request on to my lawyer. I totally forgot about it. Why are you calling for him?”
“It’s a long story, but he needs to pretend to be rich, and I’m kind of involved in a story that looks like it’s overlapping with his case. I wouldn’t pressure you right now, but we’re in a hotel room and he can’t go home because he’s being followed, so he needs to keep up the act.”
A grumble sounded on the phone, and Moira felt like she was talking to one of her brothers. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
“No more than usual. This would be a huge help. Free babysitting whenever you need it.”
“You do that anyway.” He sighed. “I’ll call the building and get him a key. Give me an hour or so. Just make sure that nothing is destroyed.”
“Thanks. I owe you. Again.” She ended the call and looked at Jimmy, who had finally turned away from the window. “You’re in. A key will be waiting for you in about an hour. Don’t ruin the place.”
Jimmy opened his mouth and then shut it. Relief shone in his eyes, but she wanted the words he held back. He was always holding back. He turned back to the window and dialed his phone. “Walker agreed. Yeah. No. You follow her. Get someone else then. It’s not negotiable.” His voice dropped to a near growl. “I don’t give a fuck what Kittner says. We don’t know who’s in that car. Thank you.”
He disconnected. Moira wanted to go to him, to soothe him, to ease the edginess, but she had a feeling she was the ultimate cause of the tension.
“Thank you for asking Walker.” His voice was quiet and still held the sharpness from his phone conversation.
“No big deal. The O’Learys always say if you have a big family, use it.” He came from a big family, but she didn’t get the impression it was the same for the O’Malleys.
“It’s still more than you had to do. More than most would do.”
She still studied his reflection in the window. The only light in the room came from the bathroom where she’d left it on.
“Want to talk about it?”
He shucked his jacket and laid it on the chair in front of him. “You know I can’t.”
Her jaw tightened in frustration. “For right now, can’t you just pretend I’m your girlfriend, not some reporter you don’t want to give information to?”
His head jerked a little when she called herself his girlfriend.
“But you are a reporter. I can’t afford to forget that.”
“I can forget if you can. Jimmy, you look like you’re about to shatter you’re so wound up. I won’t write a dam
n thing about this unless you say I can. I would never intentionally do something to screw up your job.”
He sank into the chair where he laid his jacket. Resting his elbows on his knees, he hung his head. Moira crossed the room and knelt in front of him. She took his hands and said, “You can trust me.”
When he looked up, she was lost in the depth of his eyes. Desperation and something else stared at her, but she couldn’t figure out what. She couldn’t play this guessing game with him. She leaned up and kissed him, pouring the love she’d always felt into it.
His hands framed her face again, and she stroked up his legs until she found the button on his pants. She stroked his dick through the material and then reached in. He groaned into her mouth. She pushed him back into the chair and tugged the pants down enough to release him.
He watched under heavy-lidded eyes as she stroked the length of him. Then she licked her lips and swirled her tongue over his tip, tasting his saltiness. She sucked the tip of his head into her mouth and then ran her tongue up and down the length. She caressed his balls and then took his entire cock into her mouth, tapping the back of her throat.
A deep growl rumbled in Jimmy’s chest, and she opened her eyes enough to see his face contort. Even with his dick in her mouth, he held back. She began to bob, using her hands and her tongue.
He grabbed her head and said, “Fuck. Get this thing off.”
Until that moment, she’d totally forgotten about the wig. She was always so much herself around him that she’d forgotten her disguise. She straightened and his dick slapped up against his belly. Pulling out bobby pins as quickly as possible, she tossed them on the table and yanked the wig off.
Jimmy still looked pissed, so she unwound her hair from the bun and let it wave crazily around her face and down to her shoulders. When she put his dick back in her mouth, he responded with a yes as his hand threaded in her hair all the way to her scalp.
As usual, Jimmy took control and set the pace he wanted for release. Firm but gentle. It didn’t take long and his already tight muscles became rocks. His hands fisted but stilled on her head.
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