Public Enemy, Undercover Lover

by Amanda Meuwissen

  “I…I love when you make me beg,” he choked out.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” Andrew said in a voice that made Ford shiver, the speed and depth of his fingers increasing.

  “Fuck me,” Ford rasped. “Need your cock…so deep in me, I’ll see stars when I come.”

  “If I let you come again.” Andrew leaned over him, lips almost brushing his.

  “Please…”

  Finally, Andrew pulled his fingers free and lined up to press inside, the heat and tightness intense when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this bare. He added more spit to his length to ease the way, but he slid in so smoothly, he hardly felt the absence of lube, especially when he started rocking.

  Ford’s head lolled back as Andrew leaned into him, gripped his hips, and tugged him to the edge of the table to connect deeper. He could admit, standing in Ford’s conference room with his dick out, sliding slowly into Ford, wasn’t about any power play. There was trust here. Respect. Affection…

  “Show me who’s boss,” Ford said with an ending whimper, taking everything Andrew had to give. “Teach me a lesson…Tell me how this is your city.”

  “Our city…because I’m just nice enough to let you play in it too, as long as you behave. Can you do that?” Andrew steadied himself with a hand at Ford’s hip, the one on his neck moving to his face, palming the side of his jaw as his thumb drifted lazily over damp, reddened lips. “Can you be good for me?”

  “I can be so good for you,” Ford said and licked Andrew’s thumb when it brushed his lips again, taking it into his mouth.

  It was obscene how good he looked, and Andrew was so close, already on the edge from earlier with the hot clamp of Ford’s mouth on his cock. Now, to be in him, with nothing between them but skin and Ford tonguing his thumb while he fucked him—

  Andrew pulled out just in time to come on Ford’s chest, some splashing his bobbing cock and almost staining his nicely pressed shirt. Immediately, Andrew pumped his hand through the mess and Ford’s own precum to get him there too, jerking harder and moving his other hand back to Ford’s neck to squeeze—and then Ford came too, and they both sagged.

  The door opened, Andrew’s eyes shooting to the entrance, mortified, even though he knew it didn’t matter when all of Isaac’s team already knew about them.

  But he wasn’t prepared for who actually came through the door.

  “Steve!”

  Chapter 12

  Isaac felt the sting of cold as Andrew jerked away from him, scrambling to tuck himself away, mess on his skin and clothes be damned.

  Slower, given how sore he was, Isaac did the same. “Kathleen let you through?” he asked in annoyance over the horror clear on Andrew and Steven’s faces.

  “She was on the phone.” Steven stared at his brother, and then at Isaac like he was going through shock. “Chambers waved me through when I said I was here to see you.”

  Isaac finished dressing, but it wasn’t comfortable, given the stickiness left behind. He kept waiting for Steven to start yelling, but as his cheeks cooled, just as easily made red as his brother’s it turned out, he maintained a chilling calmness.

  “I can explain,” Andrew tried, but Steven ignored him.

  “I only have three questions for you, Ford. How you answer determines my response.”

  “So black and white, Detective?” Isaac asked, wondering if one response might be to pull his gun. He was still out of breath, huffing as he and Andrew stood off the side of the table, while Steven kept his distance. “I tend to be a few varied shades of grey these days. What if I’m not in the mood to answer nicely?”

  “Then I guess Andy’s going to have to find a new fuck buddy.”

  “Hey.” Andrew got between them with clenched fists.

  Isaac smiled, trying to hide the softness of it behind Andrew’s back—ever the white knight, so quick to defend him. “It’s all right. Let him ask his questions.”

  Andrew hesitated but shifted to the side.

  “How long?”

  Isaac glanced at Andrew.

  “Christmas,” Andrew admitted.

  “The breakout?!”

  “It was one time then. Never anything before that, no conflict of interest on his cases.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe that fake dating was the truth, and that’s why you only caught him on one count of burglary.”

  “It wasn’t like that. It was Christmas, and then nothing. And then…this thief and everything with Dalton…it started up again.”

  “Why? What’s in it for you?” Steven turned to Isaac—question two.

  “You mean besides the obvious?” Isaac leered, feeling justified in ruffling him, especially when he grimaced.

  “One more question.” Steven stalked closer. “What do you plan to do when this ends?”

  When, Isaac noted, not if, and damn it if that didn’t churn his stomach.

  He never thought about it ending. Never thought about what they were doing, period, because they didn’t talk about it, had a silent agreement to not poke that bear until forced to.

  Steven had no problem shooting the bear in the eye.

  “Are you saying you’re planning to force it to end?” Isaac asked coolly.

  “No. Though I have to say, Ford, you’re not as duplicitous as I’d been led to believe.”

  “What?”

  “You have very subtle tells,” Steven said with a…smirk forming? “Most people wouldn’t notice. It’s what caused you to react that interests me, because this isn’t blowing off steam like I thought the other night.”

  “Other night?” Andrew turned, shocked, to his brother.

  “Family dinner. All that nonsense with you two working together and some ruse about dating. I already wondered. And then I smelled Ford’s cologne. Just like what was all over you the week before.”

  “That…” Andrew paled. “That could have been…”

  “I’m a detective, Andy. I wish I hadn’t had the truth proven like this…” Steven grimaced again, but his disgust seemed more from having seen his little brother in that position rather than who he’d been with. “I didn’t say anything then because I had to be sure he wasn’t using you, like Olivia again. You’ve had so much faith in him, I didn’t want it to only be because of…nightly activities. Well, not only night, apparently.”

  Isaac snorted, and Andrew snorted too, and suddenly, being discovered wasn’t so terrible.

  “Are you giving us your blessing, Detective?” Isaac asked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not telling you to stay away from him. I’m not going to tell you not to hurt him either. No relationship ends without someone getting hurt. But when it does—if it does,” Steven stepped into Isaac’s space with clear warning, “don’t twist that to your advantage. Don’t be the man I thought you were. For once, I’d rather be proven wrong.”

  Isaac tried very hard to not react to the lightness in his chest caused by Steven correcting himself with that elusive ‘if’. He hadn’t considered this ending. But he hadn’t considered it not ending either.

  “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to check in if anything new had come up. Don’t respond to that.” Steve scowled when Andrew made an amused face. “When you get a line on the classifieds ad, let me know. This is just inane enough of a plan that it might work. I guess you two don’t make the worst team, after all.” He turned to go but added with one final wrinkle of his nose. “Now, go take a shower.”

  Andrew laughed.

  Left alone once more, the tension alleviated somewhat, but Isaac wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Guess I should, um…go do that.” Andrew gestured weakly at the door.

  “I have a shower here.”

  “Yeah, but then I’d never get out of this building.”

  They shared a chuckle, and Andrew paused before moving to leave.

  “Forget something?” Isaac asked.

  “I…”

  “The mug and thermos,” he remin
ded him.

  “Right! Yeah.”

  “Something else?” Isaac asked once he’d retrieved the items, harkening back to the night before, with the same static charge between them and so much laid bare without anything really having been said.

  Isaac didn’t think he could be the one to say it, not if he was wrong that Andrew wanted the same thing.

  “There’s a lot we can’t know until this is over, so…ask me again after?”

  “If you forgot something?”

  “Yeah. After.” Andrew smiled.

  And then he was gone.

  * * * *

  After. Isaac didn’t know what came after, because there was still a chance that someone he knew and trusted had betrayed him.

  If the thief was one or more of his people, those who balked at a criminal doing security consulting would finally get to say, “Once a thief, always a thief.” Everything Isaac had built would be for nothing.

  He’d never lied when he said, “What else would I be good at?” but now, he might honestly have to think of something else to do. He couldn’t go back to being a thief, just another criminal like the one who was screwing him over. He’d lose everything. His new life. Dalton.

  Andrew.

  That thought haunted him as he showered, cleaned up the conference room, and tried to stay busy for the rest of the day. It was late when he finally wandered into his living quarters, assuming the others had all left, but there Luke and Kathleen were at his kitchen table, finishing dinner with Dalton, like they all lived there too. Dalton’s hand was still wrapped, but there really had been nothing broken.

  “Where you been?” Luke grumbled. “You’re lucky we saved you some. Dalton was about to go in after you.”

  “Still kicking yourself over that thief’s getaway?” Kathleen asked.

  Isaac didn’t answer.

  “Dad?” Dalton pressed, walking away from the table that the others started cleaning up, but there was still a place set for Isaac.

  “I’ll heat it up later. I’m not really hungry.” He’d tried for so long to ignore the part of him that wanted a home for himself, but lately, it kept staring him in the face—with his same blue eyes. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Dalton said.

  Isaac led him out to the living room and sat on the sofa, leaving Luke and Kathleen to do the cleaning, which served them right for adding to his dishwasher load again.

  “What is it, Dad? Are you still that worried about me?”

  “Always. And I’ll be just as worried once the thief is caught, but that’s not what this is about.” Isaac faced him, staring into the sparkling blues that echoed his own, unsure why now was the moment he had to confess, but he knew he did. “I need to tell you how Andrew and I really know each other.”

  “He arrested you.”

  Isaac startled. “You promised you wouldn’t look into my past—”

  “I didn’t. It was just obvious. Wait, does that mean you never dated?”

  Isaac nearly laughed by how surprised Dalton seemed by that. “We did not.”

  “Being so quick to lie about it then was more…wish-fulfillment?” He grinned. “You’re so obviously into each other.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Everything’s complicated. For everyone. All the time. Who cares? I mean, Andrew went along with that ridiculous lie without losing a step. For you. Would it be so insane to ask him out?”

  Isaac gazed at his son. “He’s your friend, and a good man, but I’ve never understood. Why do you want us together so badly?”

  “Because you like each other,” Dalton shrugged, “but you’re letting stupid things keep you apart. Just like you and Mom.”

  A swell of anguish bubbled up from the pit of Isaac’s stomach. “Dalton…”

  “She told me she left not because she didn’t like you, but because she was afraid you couldn’t make it work when your lives were heading different directions. She said she had no regrets, but that she wished she’d at least given you the chance to decide if you could become something more, like you’re doing now. I couldn’t stand the thought of watching the same thing happen again, not when I know what you’re really afraid of.”

  “And what is that?”

  Dalton’s smile was soft and sweet as he said, “That you’ll fail. That you’ll let me down. I think you’re afraid you’ll let Andrew down too, now that you really know each other and are starting to realize that maybe something could work between you two.

  “I don’t care if you screw up sometimes, Dad. Nobody can be perfect and good all the time. Not me. Not you. Not Andrew. I just want you to think better of yourself, to be as good at that as you are at everything else. If that includes being with Andrew, well…I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have watching out for you than a good friend. You deserve that.”

  Once again, Isaac didn’t know what to say, so he grabbed Dalton’s shoulder and pulled him against him tight. He was always going to worry about Dalton—and worry that someday he’d disappoint him. Maybe that was all that was keeping him from asking more from Andrew too.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too.”

  * * * *

  Candace had been hounding Andrew all morning—and most of yesterday—that he needed to ditch Ford on the Avalon case and mend bridges immediately to keep the contract, but he knew what she didn’t: if all went well catching the thief and it really was someone from Ford’s firm, Andrew’s relationship with Vallancourt would be solid.

  And Ford would likely lose all his clients.

  Winning that way was not how Andrew wanted this to go. A couple weeks earlier, he would have been celebrating. Now, he just felt nauseous.

  His phone going off in his pocket interrupted his pace on his way to the newsstand. If the thief was following Ford’s old code, then the classifieds ad would be under Merchandise.

  Fumbling to answer the call as he reached the corner, Andrew saw that Candace had grown tired of him evading her texts. “I’m just getting a paper. I’m on my way to the office now,” he said by way of greeting.

  “I should hope so,” she answered. “Now is the time to act. The thief getting away again doesn’t make us look very good. You need to throw Ford under the bus before it’s made public, before he can throw you under the bus first.”

  “He’s not going to do that. We’re working through things with Vallancourt.”

  “Andrew, please don’t set yourself up to eat those words later. Dalton and a nice family dinner do not mean Ford’s changed. Do you remember how hard he was to catch as a criminal? Literally everything he’s doing around you, everything that’s been going on, could be part of a ploy and you just can’t see it.”

  Andrew tucked himself in the corner where the edge of the newsstand met the building it stood in front of. For one ugly moment he wondered if she could be right and that everything had been a ruse, even down to the man Andrew punched in that underground club, and Ford simply had accomplices.

  Then he felt ridiculous for even entertaining the idea.

  “Not this time. Forget Avalon for right now. We have other clients. Let’s focus on them. It’s going to be okay, Candace. My judgment isn’t always as bad as it was with Liv.”

  Candace sighed, but signed off with wary, “I hope you’re right.”

  “That wasn’t very nice.”

  Andrew’s attention darted up, and he nearly dropped his phone.

  Olivia. Smiling again, just there, always there, without any shred of remorse.

  If they weren’t in public, Andrew honestly might have punched her like that man the other night, but she’d only make a story out of that too.

  “Hear me out—”

  He pushed from the wall of the building with such force and angry intent, she cut off, maybe thought he would hit her, but he steeled himself and said, “Ford was right about you. You don’t even know what honest work looks like anymore. To think, someone I was with for a
lmost two years has less integrity than an ex-criminal I used to hate.

  “But you know, if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t be where I am now, even after that article, so thanks, Liv. I hope someday I can return the favor.” He stared her down, not breaking eye contact or letting her see him flinch.

  She flinched first and backed up a step before turning to walk away.

  Some people deserved the second chances they were given. Some never knew how to take them. Andrew wasn’t the best at telling them apart, but he thought he was getting better.

  He snatched up today’s copy of the paper, paid, and returned to his tucked away corner. Classifieds. Merchandise. Then only seconds of scanning before he found it.

  Buyer wanted. Complete set of Arthurian collectables. Second owner. 11 South 225 Capella.

  Chapter 13

  Isaac cast a calculating gaze around the building, checking exits, clear lines of sight, concentration of people, and the time it would take to cross the room from one end to the other if he needed to bolt.

  “You really have a knack for casing places, don’t you?”

  Andrew—once again his partner in crime, because neither of them could bring in their people until this was over. The only one who knew was Steven, waiting to make the arrests, but Andrew had asked him to keep it small and quiet and let them pounce first.

  “It’s not too often I’m trying to catch my own shadow,” Isaac said. “Using Arthurian collectables as code for Avalon was cute. I’ll have to give the thief my regards when your brother is carting them away.”

  “You’re sure I’m right about what the ad was saying though? A dance club?” Andrew whisper-yelled to be heard over the music from where they scanned the place beside the bar.

  “Crowded. Easy to slip in and out with no one remembering you. Makes sense. And there is no South 225 Capella. Which means the eleven is for eleven o’clock, and South means the south part of the building, there.” He gestured to a hallway leading to a back room of the club used for private parties that was currently not in use. That’s where they’d make the drop.

  “So, Jericho or whoever he sends drops the payment, the thief collects it and drops the merchandise fifteen minutes later, then Jericho goes back fifteen minutes after that, and everything’s on the honor system that he won’t peek for the thief’s identity?”