“Joe stayed outside the club,” Mitch informed Peter. “And he stayed outside the hotel after you went in. We don’t know if these women are embroiled with the O’Connell’s. Anything could have happened to you."
Not looking to argue with his brother, Peter rolled his eyes and focused on his desk. He started shuffling papers around. "As you can see, I'm fine. I can look after myself. I've been in situations far more dangerous than in a hotel room with a beautiful woman."
But apparently Mitch still wasn't done. "And what happened to watching these girls from a distance? The plan that you then amended to watch them in the bar, which then became introducing ourselves, and then splitting up because you stayed for more drinks. You were supposed to be doing surveillance, for fuck’s sake, not having sex with her!"
Peter stood, and faced his brother, eye to eye. He'd had enough of the conversation. He and his brother loved each other, but they also challenged each other. Mitch was the more serious of the two, more practical, more methodical. Meanwhile, Peter often found himself acting on hunches, gut feelings, and intuition. His propensity for action over thinking often drove Mitch crazy.
"What is this about Mitch?” Peter countered, “It didn’t exactly look like you were having such a terrible time last night talking to Juliana. Are you telling me that you've never had a little out-of-bounds ass before?" Peter cringed at the flippant way he described his night with Erica. He knew that she, that one-night-stand, was somehow more than a “piece of ass.” They had stayed up for hours, and he had taken her more times in one night than he ever thought possible. He was insatiable with her. He couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out for her. Kissing her, tasting her, running his hands over her skin…
"That's not the point," Mitch's voice broke through Peter's remembrances. "Last night you ventured off on your own; you put all of us and the investigation in jeopardy. You don't even know if she's involved with the O’Connell’s. What if she is? What if she'd found the wire? If it does turn out that she is part of this, you could blow the whole investigation. Or get the whole thing thrown out of court."
Intrinsically, Peter knew that Mitch was right. Peter had been thinking with his dick when they’d left the bar the night before, he wasn’t thinking about her possible connection to the man they were trying to bring down. And if she was connected, letting his guard down like he had could have ended badly. But he was too stubborn and proud to back down. "I already told you. She didn't find the wire. I made sure of it. You have to trust me. I know how to look after myself undercover."
“Yes, undercover when you’re of sound mind. Not drunk with your hand up a skirt.” Mitch brought his hand to his forehead. "Christ, Peter..." and he trailed off when Joe and Steve walked into the room, both wearing wide grins.
"Hey, hot shot. You must have had some night," Steve walked past, slapping Peter on the back.
It was Joe’s turn to chime in. "Yeah. You sure do work fast, my friend," the normally silent giant laughed.
Peter furrowed his brow at Joe. Now the guy decides to speak.
The deep scowl on Mitch’s face showed that he remained unamused. He folded his arms over his broad chest. "Guys, this is a serious matter. Peter put himself and the team in jeopardy."
"I wasn't in jeopardy," Peter insisted.
“You were gone all night, did you hit the Daily Double?” Steve piped up with a smile, obviously proud of his own wit. Joe laughed and the two high-fived.
Mitch slammed his palm down on his desk, ignorant to how humorous the other two men found the situation. He turned to his younger brother. "Okay, Peter, picture this. You got a sweet honey with her lips wrapped around your dick, your eyes are closed, and your head’s back, in the throes of sweet ecstasy, and without you knowing it – bam! - some guy comes in the room and he puts two in the back of your skull."
Peter was silent for a moment. He didn't want to let on how accurate Mitch's statement of his activities were, minus the guy putting two in the back of his skull, of course. If he closed his eyes, he could definitely still feel her mouth on him, and his cock twitched involuntarily at the memory. But he forced his libido to take a breather. He still had his brother to contend with. "That's quite a picture you've painted there, Mitch. How about this? Next time I've got a girl in bed, maybe you'd like to be in the room too, have my back."
He heard Joe and Steve snicker in the background. They were clearly enjoying the display.
“You have a habit for getting too close,” Mitch walked closer, until the two men were chest to chest. "It's not like this is the first time something like this has happened. You get too close and bad things happen."
"You son of a bitch," Peter growled, his eyes darkening. "How dare you?"
Having seen enough, Steve stepped between the snarling brothers before they could come to blows, and placed a firm palm on the chest of each Swanson. He turned to Mitch first. "Okay, okay, boys, as much as I'm enjoying these interesting sibling dynamics, I think you're being too hard on him. This is something that could work for us." He then tuned to Peter. "Peter, you're here and you haven’t been executed and dropped in an alley somewhere, nor are you being held and tortured. So let's be glad about that, shall we? I mean, from that alone, she's probably not a hardened criminal."
Now it was Joe's turn to speak. "He's right. And Peter, you can use this as a way to get closer to her. What better way to see if there's anything dirty going on at that café, and see if there’s any other connection besides the rental of the space?"
Joe was right. The big guy had a good idea. But he didn't want to start a relationship with Erica under those circumstances…
What relationship? Peter had only had sex with the woman. Okay, it was amazing sex. But who said anything about a relationship? He’d had one night stands before and he’d managed to do so without making freakin’ wedding plans. But Peter would be damned if he could decide why he felt that way. Did he want to actually start a relationship with Erica? It wasn’t like he even really knew her, but damn if he didn't share some sort of connection with her the previous night.
But in the meantime, if he could clear the cafe and make sure there was nothing fishy going on, then they could all move on and explore other avenues in the investigation. He'd opened a can of worms by suggesting that they look into the café, and now he had to close it.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'll get closer to her for the investigation. Will this work for you?" he asked Mitch.
Mitch nodded. "Okay. You just be careful." He stuck a finger in his younger brother's face. "Don't ever go off-wire again, okay? And don't get too close this time. Don’t screw it up. Just because you're my brother, doesn't mean I won't kick your ass off this team."
"I'll do what needs to be done, Mitch. But don't get me wrong, it'll be done my way," he told his brother, turning away from the group and heading out the door.
Exhausted, Erica leaned against the counter, while she waited for her espresso to pour into the tiny cup. Her eyes dropped, threatening to close in complete slumber if she didn’t soon ingest a necessary dosage of caffeine. The twenty-two seconds that it took to pour the perfect double shot was far too long, and she willed it to finish before she dug her hand into the espresso bean hopper and started eating the beans.
When her espresso finished pouring she gratefully brought the cup to her lips and gulped; neither sipping nor savoring the precious dark liquid.
The bell on the door chimed, signaling her first customer of the day entering the store. Erica turned her lips into a pleasant smile to greet the customer, her customer service face, but it dropped when she saw that it was Juliana coming in.
“Don’t look so sad to see me,” Juliana raised an eyebrow, commenting, on Erica’s quick change in demeanor.
“I’m always glad to see you, darling,” Erica said through a yawn. “But with you Jules, I don’t have to pretend that I’m not exhausted, nor do I have to waste any precious energy doing so.” She couldn’t help
but let a yawn escape.
Juliana rolled her eyes and grabbed an apron from a hook on her office door. “Late night? Like I need to ask…”
“You could say that.”
“Really?” Juliana was intrigued. “And what time did you make it home after we left last night?”
Erica looked around to verify there were no customers around and dropped her voice. “Well, I didn’t exactly make it home last night. Actually,” she checked her watch. “I didn’t make it home until maybe an hour ago…” she trailed off with a sheepish smile.
“Did you go back to Peter’s place?”
Erica shook her head. “We didn’t actually make it that far either. We ended up in a hotel room near the bar.”
“What?” Juliana was shocked. “You had a one-night-stand? You never do that!”
“I know. So atypical, right? But we were just talking at the bar for a while, and then before I know it, I’m suggesting we get a room.”
“You complete vixen," Juliana smiled, definitely impressed by her friend's moxie. "That’s incredible,” she leaned in. “So how was it?”
Erica sighed, fanning herself dramatically with her hand. “It was actually amazing. An all-nighter. He definitely knows his way around a woman, and I’m absolutely exhausted, but oh man, a night like that… So worth it.”
She continued to give Juliana the run-down of her night with Peter. Not at all shy about divulging intimate details to her friend. Erica, Juliana and Azura knew just about everything there was to know about each other’s lives, and virtually no topic was too scandalous or taboo.
“God,” Juliana sighed wistfully when Erica had finished. “It’s been so long since I’ve met a guy I even liked well enough to let him sleep with me.”
“Maybe you just need to start inviting guys into hotel rooms, like me,” Erica laughed.
“Yeah, that’ll be the day. I’m glad you had such a good night, but make sure you don’t fall asleep on the espresso machine,” she winked at Erica and turned away to walk into her office.
Erica looked at the machine. Falling asleep on top of it was likely. She had barely slept at all, and come 5:15, she barely hadn’t even her alarm and Peter had roused her awake.
Erica felt her temperature rise at the memories she conjured about her night with Peter, and she could feel a flush creep across her cheeks and down to her chest, until pink skin met the edge of her low-cut blouse, accompanied with a pang of desire in her belly and a dampness in her panties. She had it bad, and she wondered, just perhaps, if she could somehow talk him into a going for a second round.
Chapter 6
Peter needed a coffee.
The rest of the guys were out running down a couple of leads, and he was just fine in his solitude, sitting at his desk, once again reviewing the files of Dylan and Colin O’Connell.
His attention then fell to the pictures he had printed of the beautiful ladies who worked at Brewed Moon, and his eyes settled on Erica. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mitch was right. Last night, they had learned absolutely nothing except that a sexy redhead did more than rev his engine. Just looking at Erica’s picture made his cock stiffen. His memories of her vivid as he pictured her naked, in the shower, on the bed, bent over the bathroom counter. He needed her again, but he knew that once more, twice more, a thousand times more would not satiate his craving for her soft, white skin, the way she tasted, the feel and the scent of her.
He rubbed his eyes and focused back on the computer screen. The words blurred in front of him. Yup, he definitely needed a coffee. Good thing there’s a place nearby. He smiled to himself, pushed up from his desk and quietly left the war room.
Somehow, Peter had managed to find a parking place just across the street from Brewed Moon. He looked up and down the street, and through the blanket of fog which completely shrouded the area, he could barely make out the shape of the cafe, which he knew was no more than twenty feet away from him. He pulled his jacket tighter across his chest. The cool temperature was certainly quite a departure from the absolutely beautiful warmth they’d experience the day before. St. John’s weather will always keep you guessing.
Brewed Moon, like many other independently-owned businesses in the city, was located in the downtown district of St. John’s, where the streets were lined with the stone and brick facades of buildings dating back to the early 1900s, many of which were rebuilt after a great fire decimated much of the area. The old storefronts, coupled with the fog, made him think he was standing on a movie set. He could imagine himself as a film noir character, a detective, a gum shoe, trying to catch the bad guys while seducing the gorgeous dame. That is a familiar story, he mused, crossing the street, hopeful that he was visible to any oncoming vehicles
He opened the door of Brewed Moon and he was greeted by the now-familiar aroma of some of the finest coffee he’d ever tasted. He scanned the café, his eyes first landed on the now familiar forms of the Irishmen – Dylan and Colin O’Connell, sitting at the same table they’d previously selected days before. Peter was immediately aware of them, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, pricking him.
Peter edged closer to them, and began browsing the merchandise on a shelf near their table. He picked up a stainless steel travel mug and fiddled with the top. Not the most covert undercover play in his career, but they didn’t seem to mind his presence.
Colin took a sip of his coffee. “So what time is the show tonight?” he asked his brother.
“Eight o’clock,” Colin told him. “We’ve got that meeting at the club at seven, though. Don’t forget.”
“The Russians, yeah?”
The Russians? Peter slanted his eyes to the table, before bringing them quickly back to the merchandise. The men still didn’t pay him any mind. Peter knew that the club that they were talking about was probably The Lucky Clover. A gentleman’s club and bar that O’Connell owned. It was one of his legitimate businesses, but Peter and the team knew that some shady work went down there. If only they could get close enough to prove it. He focused all of his attention on the Irishmen, while he picked up a French press, and examined the tag.
But they were finished talking. The men knocked back their beverages and stood from the table without saying another word. If only they had divulged a little more information…
He turned around and let his gaze roam over the counter. Erica stood at the espresso machine, all of her focus being used to hand-craft drinks for the line-up of people waiting nearby. She probably hadn’t even seen him arrive. He watched her as she worked. Her playful eyes were now serious, and her full lips now a stern line as she concentrated on the task before her. She didn’t even need to look at her hands though, as they moved quickly through all of the steps of creating all sorts of delicious beverages.
Juliana, the owner, stood behind the cash register and she greeted him with a smile. “Well hello there, what can I get for you this morning?”
“Something strong,” he said through a yawn that caught him off guard, a testament to a severe lack of sleep from the night before.
She pursed her lips, thinking about his request, while she absently played with a lock of her black hair, as she watched him, studied him. “How about a Dead Eye?”
“Sorry, I don’t speak coffee shop.”
She laughed. “It’s a triple shot of espresso in a large cup of coffee.”
He nodded and chuckled. “That sounds exactly like what I need.”
Juliana took a large cup from the stack and poured the coffee into it. She gingerly placed it in front of Erica, who nodded. Erica then looked up for the first time and saw Peter. Their eyes connected, and he smiled.
“She’ll have your drink ready at the end in a minute or two.”
“Thank you.” He paid her for his drink and he moved down to the end of the counter where Erica finished up the last few drinks before his. His was the only cup remaining, and without saying anything, she looked at him as she pulled the espresso shots for his drink, her h
ands quick and nimble, as they went through a series of steps to finish his coffee. He thought that she might be blushing, but it could have just been her make-up, or the heat from the equipment around her.
“Need a little extra caffeine this morning?” she asked him with a mischievous smile.
“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night.” And he was looking directly into the bright green eyes of the reason why.
She passed over his drink, leaned in, and said with a conspirator’s whisper, “You should get to bed earlier.”
He chuckled. “Oh, it was plenty early when I got into bed, as a matter of fact,” he winked. He picked up his cup and was about to turn away when she reached out and put a hand on his forearm. Her touch crackled on his skin, and he instantly wanted her again.
God, reign it in, Swanson, he scolded himself. You're a grown man, not a goddamn teenager. Act like it.
He turned back to Erica, and she actually looked a little shy. A strange departure from the vixen he knew her to be. "Um, listen,” she spoke hesitantly. “I’ve got a burlesque show tonight. And, if you want, I've got a few extra tickets left. If you and the guys would like them."
"Uh-" he barely had any time to form any sort of response before she stopped him.
"I mean, only if you want. But you probably have plans or something. So don’t worry about it."
The idea of seeing Erica perform on stage was too tempting to pass up. He’d seen exotic dancers, go-go dancers and strippers, but he had never actually seen a burlesque show, and he was intrigued. “Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun. I’m sure the guys would love it.”
It could be fun. And he imagined that the team would have a pretty good time there as well. It would be a good opportunity for them to loosen up, see some beautiful women dancing in lingerie, he’d get a chance to talk to Erica, or the other women, get a feel for them… A feel from them…? Peter mulled that option.
Bump & Grind (Brewed Moon Book 1) Page 7