I Spy a Dark Obsession

by Jo Davis

  Michael was silent for a long moment. “Dietz is keeping tabs on us somehow. I’m willing to bet he has a contact keeping him in the know. Not one of his soldiers, but a local snitch, one he’s paying off. Someone who works in the background near us. This person could be a bouncer, bartender, or one of our cleaning personnel here at the agency. Hell, it could even be Mrs. Beasley.” At Bastian’s arched brow, he grimaced. “Just sayin’.”

  “Okay, he has a snitch. So?”

  “So we let Blaze, Emma, and some of our agents who are more active in the underground community spread the word that you’re not happy in your love life. You’ve suffered a devastating breakup. You’re going to have fun, nail every piece of ass that will hold still long enough.”

  Bastian’s heart ached at the version laced with shades of the truth. But Michael would never be devastated on his behalf, he was positive. The man had barely blinked when Bastian shoved him out of his life. “This will take more than one night. He’ll watch first, make sure I’m really doing what the rumors said.”

  Meaning, Bastian would have to make the pickups real. And Michael didn’t even flinch, or show an ounce of remorse. He could have wept.

  “Do what you must. We’ll start tomorrow night. Like you said, he won’t move the first night, so we’ll have you go fishing again Friday night, Saturday if necessary. If he still doesn’t try for you, we’ll set up a predictable pattern—one weeknight plus Fridays and Saturdays. Three weeks with no results, and we’ll scrap the op and come up with something else.”

  “Fine. But I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Me, either. Stop by and see Katrina before you leave and get the equipment you’ll need to wear in your clothing.”

  Oh, goody. That meeting wouldn’t be awkward at all.

  “Will do. I’ll leave my condo at nine tomorrow night to go out. Not many people are hanging at the club before then.”

  “Fine.”

  Bastian took his cue to leave and stood. As he reached for the doorknob, Michael’s voice drifted behind him.

  “Please be careful.”

  Briefly, he closed his eyes. “I always am.”

  If only that concern meant something deeper. But it didn’t, and never would. That depressing knowledge dogged him all day and had more than a little to do with his putting off going to see Katrina as long as possible. He might have avoided the errand until tomorrow if he hadn’t answered the phone on his desk just as he was wrapping for the day. Not thinking about much except heading to his temporary quarters for the evening, he picked up the handset.

  “Chevalier.”

  “Hey, it’s Katrina. Are you coming by to get the equipment you need for the op? Michael said to expect you, and I’m about ready to go home.”

  Crap. He hadn’t realized she’d be waiting for him. “I’m sorry, time got away from me. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay, see you.”

  Hanging up, he buried his face in his hands. “Damn. Okay, stop being a pussy and face her like a man. She already knows that you want her as much as you want her lover.” Hell, she’d wanted Bastian, too. Had that changed?

  And as a result, seeing her and Michael spending every waking moment together cut twice as deep. After tidying his desk, he shut down his computer and walked out, thinking that a call to his former director was in order. He’d stick it out here until Dietz was caught, and then he’d move back to Virginia or wherever the hell they wanted to send him. Alaska would work.

  Or maybe the president would be so pleased, he’d agree to send Bastian overseas as an agent so deep undercover, his real identity would cease to exist. Maybe he’d be like James Bond, breaking hearts all over Europe until he either vanished into a cozy retirement in the Mediterranean or got his ass blown up by the enemy.

  Stifling a sigh, he walked into Katrina’s office to find her shutting down for the day, as well. She brightened when she saw him and crossed the few feet to give him a warm hug.

  “Hey, stranger.” Pulling back, she studied him. “Haven’t seen much of you in over a week.”

  “I’ve been busy protecting the world from heinous criminals.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  “Unfortunately, I do. How sad is it that those criminals keep us employed?” Her eyes twinkled.

  “Very. You have a couple of gadgets for me?”

  “I do.” Scooping them off her desk, she placed them in his outstretched palm. “I don’t have to tell you how these work. I just want to point out that the audio device is disguised as a nipple ring. You can wear either a mesh shirt or a solid one and it won’t interfere with the sound. The camera was trickier, but Emma and I came up with a solution by disguising it as an earring.”

  “Neither of my ears is pierced, though.”

  “Doesn’t matter. See this? It’s one of those magnetic-button things, no piercing required. The angle won’t be as good as if the camera was fixed on your shirt or somewhere it could point straight on, but it’ll be okay.”

  “What about a necklace?”

  “Didn’t think of that, but we’ll design something for Friday night. Come to think of it, changing up the accessories will be good. Less suspicious.”

  “All right. Guess I’m good to go.”

  She hesitated, biting her lip. “Bastian, please be really careful. I haven’t trusted Dietz since the day he accepted the job as Michael’s right hand. He’s evil, not stupid. Whatever we’ve thought of, he’s already there.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he deadpanned. “Maybe I should just wear my T-shirt that has the red bull’s-eye on it and stand in the middle of the road.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Agent humor. What can you do?”

  She considered him a moment, obviously chewing on something. “Why did Michael originally pass you over for the CEO’s position and give it to Dietz? I’m not the only one who’s baffled by that, either.”

  “The truth is, he didn’t pass me over. I turned him down. The gory details, Michael can fill in for you.” He was surprised she hadn’t asked him already. “Gotta run. Thanks for the gadgets.”

  “Wait. About the other night—”

  “What about it? We’re all adults. You and Michael have a thing, and I get that.” How calm he sounded. Not at all like his guts were being ripped out. “I’ve got no claim on him, or you for that matter, as much as I—Forget it. I have to go.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Bastian . . . I still want you. Do you still want me, too? This is important.” Her earnest expression arrested him, those big blue eyes begging him to be honest. He could fall into them and never emerge.

  “I’d give anything to be with you and Michael. But I fail to see how. I can’t have either of you, regardless of how I feel,” he said painfully.

  “What if you could? Would you have both of us?”

  What a fucking question. He stared at her, wondering what game she was playing. “You want to know? Fine. Yes, I’d have you both. And I’m getting too old to play for kicks—with you two I’d play for keeps.”

  “Then do it.” Stepping close, she cupped his face. Gave him a soft kiss that deepened into something strong and passionate. It didn’t last long, but it shook him to his toes. Awakened his groin. “Put your money where your mouth is. Finish what we started in your office.”

  He groaned. “Katrina—”

  “What do you have to lose?” She slid a hand to his balls, manipulated them through his pants. Rubbed, stoking his desire.

  Everything. He stood to lose it all, but right now he wanted her so badly. “We can’t. You’re with Michael.”

  “He and I haven’t set any rules yet. Besides, as long as the other man is you, he won’t mind.” Leaning in, she nibbled on his neck, sending little chills through his body.

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I am.” She moved on to his ear. “Trust me.”

  “I don’t have any protection with me.”

 
“I do, in my purse,” she said, gesturing to where the handbag sat on the counter behind her desk.

  “Oh, shit.” Fire licked at his groin, the flames demanding to be fed. He was screwed. Taking advantage of her victory, she turned and dug in her purse, and triumphantly held up the small packet.

  Placing it on the desk, she went to work on his zipper. Flashbacks of the other day in his office teased his brain, shooting little ripples to his eager cock. Bad idea or not, there was no denying that his body craved a replay, but one that ended in satisfaction for both of them.

  She opened his pants and his erection sprang free, pointing the way to bliss. When his shaft slipped between her lips, a helpless moan escaped his throat and he threaded his fingers through her soft hair. Urged her to take him deeper.

  “That’s it. Suck me,” he rasped. “Harder.”

  Grasping the base, she did as he asked, tightening the suction and even using her teeth to lightly scrape the sensitive flesh. He shivered, loving the slight edge of danger, being so firmly under her control. Because there was no doubt that although she was the one on her knees, she was in charge. At the moment.

  Just when he couldn’t stand the torment any longer, she pulled off him with an audible pop and reached for the condom. “Ready for me?”

  “Do you have to ask?”

  Smirking, she tore the package with her teeth. Slowly, she rolled the latex onto his sensitized cock, and he found himself wondering whether this was how it went down between her and Michael at the club. Instead of jealousy that she and Michael were together, the idea heightened his lust, driving it to an almost unbearable level. Bastian not only approved, he longed to be a part of them.

  A wave of doubt rose and he squashed it ruthlessly, determined to make the best of his time with Katrina. He wouldn’t ruin it by overthinking their future—or lack thereof.

  Helping her to her feet, he crushed his mouth to hers, fingers working on her zipper. Breaking the kiss, he shoved the pants down, undies and all, sliding them to her ankles. Her shoes were in the way and he lifted each foot, yanked them off, then tossed the pants aside. Cupping her face, he gave a bit of rein to the aggression boiling in his blood. He barely recognized his own voice, low and snarly.

  “At the club the other night, how did Michael take you?”

  Her eyes rounded. “What?”

  “How. Did. He. Fuck. You?”

  She licked her lips. “With me facing the wall in the alley, legs spread. Why?”

  He gave her a feral smile. “Good. Because I’m going to fuck you differently. Not in the dark, but in the light, where you can’t hide.” Sweeping his arm across her desk, he sent pens, pencils, and papers clattering to the floor. Then he eased her onto her back on the surface, spread her knees, and stepped between her legs. Rubbed his cock on her mound. “You’re going to look into my eyes while I bury myself deep in your hot pussy and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Sound good to you?”

  “God, yes!”

  Reaching between them with one hand, he parted her folds and slipped a finger into her channel, making sure she was nice and wet. Ready for him. Satisfied, he replaced his fingers with the head of his aching cock and pushed inside, sliding all the way to the hilt.

  “Bastian,” she said hoarsely, eyes wide. Hazy with desire. “Fuck me.”

  With great pleasure. Hooking her legs over his shoulders, he grasped her hips and readjusted, settling into the cradle of her heat. Withdrawing, he paused, then pushed home again. And again. Reveled in the snug clasp of her pussy walls massaging his dick, making him damned near cross-eyed with pleasure.

  “More! Harder!”

  “Christ, baby.”

  He complied, giving it to her strong enough to shake the desk, fingers digging into her pale skin as he drove inside. Pumped her with abandon, her little cries of ecstasy spurring him on, calling to him on a deeper level than he’d ever experienced with any woman. Even in the throes of white-hot lust, one word emerged in his mind, defining the feeling that went deeper than sex.

  Connection. He felt connected to her in a way that was almost spiritual, a bond he’d yet to achieve with Michael, as much as he wished for it. But Katrina was wide open to Bastian, trust and something more shining in her blue eyes, accepting what he had to give with everything in her. No hesitation or shame.

  The realization drove him over the edge and he exploded with a shout, pulsing his release into her. Distantly, he was aware of her clinging to his shoulders, spasming around his cock, finding her own reward. They held on to each other as the tremors subsided, coming down from the high. All too soon, reality intruded, and with it a ball of guilt that sat heavy in his gut.

  He’d fucked his best friend’s lover. Would Michael forgive him? Despite Katrina’s earlier assurance that Michael wouldn’t mind, Bastian wasn’t so sure.

  Despair joined the guilt, vying for first position on the topten list of stupid shit Bastian had done lately. Kissing Katrina’s neck, he withdrew carefully and straightened, reaching for a box of tissues he’d knocked to the floor. Quickly, he removed the condom, disposed of it, and cleaned himself, not meeting her eyes. He put himself back together while she did the same, and then stood awkwardly, wondering what to say next. Thanks seemed a little strange.

  Stepping in front of him, Katrina hugged him around his waist, snuggling into his chest. “Thank you,” she said with a contented sigh. “I’ve been wanting you forever, it seems.”

  Funny, coming from her it didn’t sound strange at all. Still, the complications of their situation weighed heavily on his mind. “What about Michael?” The tightness in his voice belied his anxiety.

  Pulling back, she stared earnestly into his face. “Michael, too. I’ve wanted you both. And now I don’t know if I can give up either of you. Maybe I won’t have to.”

  He stared at her, trying to assimilate what she was saying. “I don’t think my best friend is the type to willingly share a woman with another man.”

  “I’m not talking about just you two sharing me. I’m saying . . . what if the three of us could be together, for real?”

  Hope soared for a few seconds, until he pictured Michael’s reaction to such a suggestion. The man’s withdrawal after the blow job in the limo had been painful enough. His spirits plummeted. “Honey, if you think he’ll go for a happy threesome with me involved, you’re deluding yourself,” he said sadly. “And I’ve had enough of him hurting me to last a lifetime. Even if I—No. There’s no point in discussing this any further.”

  “You might be surprised. Do us all a favor and don’t give up.”

  “What if you had to choose between us, sweetheart?” he asked quietly. “What if it came down to him or me? Which one of us would it be?”

  She didn’t answer. Or couldn’t. Her eyes filled with tears, and his chest felt like it had caved under the pressure of agony so horrible, he wanted to run. Hand in his resignation right then and keep walking.

  Which he would do, immediately after the job with Dietz was done.

  Showtime.

  “Okay, guys. Going in,” Bastian said for the benefit of his backup. “And if anything I do ends up on the Internet? Remember, I take notes on you idiots, and paybacks are a mother.”

  The other agents snickered. Michael wasn’t amused.

  “He’s going to get his ass killed.” Michael would have paced like an animal in a cage, but in the surveillance van, there was nowhere to go. No room to maneuver.

  “He’ll be fine, boss,” Ozzie said, giving him a sharp look. “Give him some credit.”

  The unusually sober comment from the normally outgoing agent gave Michael pause. He needed to be careful about expressing worry in front of his men. They might take it as doubt about Bastian’s abilities, which wasn’t true. “You’re right. He’s my friend and I’m concerned—that’s all. He’s not used to being in the field anymore.”

  “It’s like riding a bike,” Agent Willis said, trying to placate him.

  Not
really. Every case was different, took on a life of its own. There was no such thing as a normal or routine case.

  As Bastian entered the club, they all fell silent. Ozzie adjusted the sound to mute the roar of the crowd and the music, and they watched the monitor as he pushed through the crowd. The video feed wasn’t terrific, but that was due to the dark interior of the establishment. They could make out faces, barely, and could pause the video and snap still photos if they spotted Dietz or one of his men.

  This particular club wasn’t one Michael had ever frequented, but it had a rather rough reputation. Dark, a little careworn, any poison could be found here. Stout drinks, a pill for every color of the rainbow. Anything-goes sex to be had for those in the market.

  He wanted to storm into that shithole and drag his best friend out by the hair.

  However difficult he’d imagined it would be to watch and listen to Bastian get into his role as a spurned lover on the make, the reality was far worse. He sat riveted, unable to do a damned thing as the man worked his magic.

  People were attracted to Bastian, no question. Michael had always known that, but it was a rude awakening to see men and women putting the moves on him. Smiling, groping, fawning over his golden beauty. Each hoping to be the one he chose for some down-and-dirty sex in a back room somewhere. Frankly, it was humbling.

  Why does he love me when he can literally have anyone he wants?

  On the screen, Bastian worked the bar for a while, then the dance floor. An hour later, he was at the bar again when a new male voice came through the feed.

  “Hi.” Shy, hesitant. “I’m Cory. Can I buy you a drink?”

  The camera panned to the right, showing a cute little blond twink smiling hopefully at the object of his interest. Michael snorted. As if the squirt stood a chance.

  “Sure, Cory. I’m Bastian,” he replied. Male interest returned in kind.

  What the fuck?

  “What’ll you have?”

  “Scotch on the rocks.”

  The bartender was signaled, the order placed, along with a beer for the twink—who didn’t appear to be anywhere near legal. Michael made a mental note to call one of his buddies in Vice and have them plan a raid.