Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2)

by Suzanne Steele

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dr. Brinkley

  “I specifically remember telling you not to discuss any of your demented sexual tendencies with my employee,” I snap as I close the door and turn to face Georgia where she is, as usual, manacled to chains that are bolted to the floor.

  “What’s the matter, Doc, have you got a nasty hard-on for your little assistant? That why you’re keeping her so close? Maybe you’re hoping she’ll suck you off in your cozy, little office? Or maybe you’re scared somebody else might take a liking to her?” She leans back in her chair, idly stroking her cleavage as she purrs, “I know if I was in the position to, I’d sure hit that. Bet her pussy tastes like pure heaven.”

  My fist crashes down on the metal table, leaving a dent to match the one I left the last time we had a discussion. The strike won’t be heard beyond the walls of the soundproof interview room. In fact, this padded room in the basement is perfect for what I have in mind; it comes complete with restraints and all. Usually, patients I bring here eye the restraints with trepidation and more than a little fear. Not Georgia. She gazes at them as if she longs to be tied down or, better yet, yearns to restrain me and finally unleash the violent rage that simmers, always, just below the surface. We have an odd bond; I need her and she revels in that knowledge. And in her own way, she needs me as well. Go figure…I’ve captured the attention of a woman who isn’t remotely intrigued by people, and I’m flattered.

  I love my job: I get to be judge, jury, and at times even executioner. I know if Georgia ever gets her hands on me, she’ll kill me. I wonder how badly she’d make me suffer before she inflicted the kill blow.

  “You worthless piece of shit, I should kill you for forcing me to talk to her. You love taunting me, but that isn’t a safe thing for you to do, doctor. She’s so…innocent, really. Is that what has you so smitten with the little bitch?”

  “I’d almost think you’re jealous, Georgia. What is this obsession you’ve developed with me?”

  “I want to see your blood, I want to hurt you…watch your light go out…and you and I both know, that one day, I will. Ours is a twisted relationship, yes, but one that I look forward to enjoying more fully…soon.”

  “I don’t think you’re capable of having a normal relationship, even if you had the opportunity -- which you don’t.”

  “Oh, is that what we have…a relationship?” she asks with a smirk.

  “Of a sort, yes, Georgia, we do. Although even I’ll admit it’s a bit of a stretch to call it that. It’s not unusual for a doctor and patient to develop a unique…rapport. But ours only works within the confines of this hospital, where I have you right where I want you. Wouldn’t you agree? So as long as I’m in charge of this facility, you will remain here under lock and key.”

  “Yeah, well, I just feel all fucking warm and fuzzy knowing that you have me under your watchful eye.” Her face turns to stone and she stares at me oddly with her dead eyes before hissing, “Get rid of the little rich bitch or I’m going to hurt her.”

  I tilt my head to the side and regard her indulgently. “No need to hurt the poor girl, Georgia, you know your obsession is safe with me.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  At her words, I smile serenely and shake my head. “Sadly, I’m afraid not.”

  Now her face is softer, sensual heat taking the place of the icy demeanor of only a moment ago. “But you think about it, don’t you?” she murmurs in a sultry whisper. I take a lesson from Miss Fairchild and keep my expression neutral as I refuse to respond. Instead, I turn away and pull the door open, nodding to the guard outside to let him know we’re done here.

  In the elevator, I ponder the woman who has managed to entrap me in her web of mental sadism. For some reason she latched onto me when she was first brought here to the hospital. There have been many opportunities to release her to another institution but I can’t.

  What she doesn’t understand yet is that she and I have something in common, a darkness that may defy explanation but is no less consuming. Her darkness is more fully defined, more fully explored…and I find that intoxicating. She is a cruel, vicious woman with no ability to feel empathy toward her fellow man or any living creature. And I’m the sick son of a bitch who is enthralled with her because, somehow, she has bonded to me and no one else.

  Georgia reads me too easily and too well. She sees my fascination for Miss Fairchild and she’s angered by it. Up until now Georgia has been the only woman I’ve forged a connection with, not matter how sick and twisted it is. She mistakes that for an emotional bond and it may well be as close as I will ever get to one; I’ve immersed myself in my study of killers that I sometimes doubt I am capable of bonding with a woman in a ‘normal’ way. I’ll have to watch her. I have unwittingly put my assistant in danger by subjecting her to a woman who would kill to keep me and think nothing of it afterward.

  Georgia is the one under lock and key, but she holds me captive in a prison of my own making.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Windy

  I pull into the garage and am surprised to see Thorn’s SUV parked in the spot next to me, considering I spotted him behind me in traffic only moments ago as I made my way home from work. What’s even more shocking, though, is the sight that greets me as I step out of my car: Three tall, ridiculously gorgeous men stride down the front steps of the building. Each one is more impressive than the last – tall, muscular and seriously hot, and yet they couldn’t be more different in appearance.

  The first one down the steps looks like a seriously badass biker, complete with leathers and, I’d be willing to bet, some impressive ink. The next one could be a frat guy, loping down the steps in a fashionably ratty t-shirt and longish, messy blonde hair that’s just begging for fingers to tame it. Following behind the others is…a supermodel? Black hair, nearly black eyes and hot as hell, with a confident air of authority that makes it clear he’s the leader of the group. But I can tell that these men don’t take orders from anyone; they’re too self-assured for that.

  At that moment, they spot me standing by my car, shamelessly staring in their direction. Okay, maybe there’s a hint of shame because I’ve been caught, but, really, there’s just so much to see. The frat boy and the supermodel seem to recognize me, although I’m certain I’ve never met these guys before. A girl would remember something like that.

  Hell, a girl would probably dream about something like that, many years later in the nursing home when the kind of raw, sheet-clawing sex that one could expect from guys like that was a distant memory. Damn.

  The two men nod at me briefly before climbing into a truck that’s double-parked on the street directly in front of the building. Biker Guy, however, takes his time, slowing his stride to a stop and looking me up and down, nice and slow as you please, before shooting me a wicked, sexy smile that makes my toes kinda curl.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he says in a low, husky rumble meant to seduce, even though his eyes are twinkling as he glances back toward the building. “You must be Windy.”

  Of course. Friends of Thorn’s. I should have known.

  “Hi,” I reply softly, raising my hand and wiggling my fingers in a lame, childish gesture that immediately makes me cringe. I shake my head to clear it. Wow. You don’t see a hot biker on the streets of Louisville very often.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Thorn snaps from the front door, glowering down at his friend in a distinctly unfriendly way. Then he’s glaring at my raised hand, which, yeah, reminds me that I need to lower my hand. Down, killer. I’m just waving at the nice man.

  Biker Guy throws his head back and laughs, unphased by the hostility Thorn is directing his way. Grinning from ear to ear, he gives me a wink and Thorn a thumbs-up before he climbs into the cab of the truck. The mystery men pull out into traffic and head for parts unknown. The mystery, though, as far as I’m concerned, is why they were here at Hearth and Home.

  I grab my purse and briefcase from the front seat of my car a
nd follow Thorn inside. As soon as I stack them on the console table in the entryway, Thorn appears in the doorway leading to the kitchen, holding a glass of red wine out to me, an assessing look in his eyes.

  “Hard day at the office, dear?” he asks, sounding playful but looking at me with a serious gleam in his eyes. I accept the glass and take a long, delicious sip. Mmmm, yummy.

  “Yes, very tiring, to say the least. I hope it isn’t going to be more than I can do to keep up with school and work.” I take another sip of wine, closing my eyes and making a low sound of pleasure in my throat before asking, “So who are the guys I saw outside?”

  Thorn has moved closer to me and is watching me with a heated glare. I repeat the question, “Thorn, who were they and why were they here?”

  “Associates of mine,” he says curtly. “Helping me get things set up here.”

  “Oh, that’s right; the security system you mentioned. Well, they certainly know how to make an impression on a girl,” I remark casually, glancing at him to check for a reaction. Sure enough, he stiffens and his eyes get a hard glint.

  “The security system and a few other things,” he says cryptically. I scowl and start to ask him what he means when he cuts me off, placing my glass of wine on the counter before taking my hand and leading me down the hall toward the bedrooms, “Forget about them and let me give you the tour.”

  “What have you done, Thorn?”

  He looks over his shoulder at me and grins. “I’ve made your new home safer for you…and more comfortable for me. C’mon, I have a surprise for you.”

  He’s acting like a big kid, which makes it hard to be mad at him for his bossiness. I have to admit, I’m getting excited wondering what he’s been doing all day while I was at work. Whatever it is, I know one thing for sure; the security system he installed will be top-of-the-line. He’s handled Dad’s security needs for years so I’m well aware of his expertise. “Okay,” I say, “let’s see what you’ve done.” He leads me to my room and stops just outside the door.

  “Come here. Now, close your eyes,” he says softly, tugging me toward him, then wrapping an arm around my waist from behind. He leans in to press his cheek into the crook of my neck and I swear he’s smelling me again. He drapes his other arm around my shoulder and covers my eyes with his massive hand. Then I’m smelling him. Oh, why does he have to always smell so good?

  “Open your eyes, baby…” he says against my neck, the rumble of his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. I know he feels me quiver because he chuckles and softly kisses my neck before taking his hand away from my eyes.

  I immediately miss the warmth of his hand but am just as quickly distracted by the sight that greets me. There is an antique cherry desk that takes up an entire wall where my sofa used to be. A state-of-the-art computer, complete with three monitors, sits on top of the desk, and all my books fill the built-in shelving that covers the wall. I know my mouth is moving, but I don’t make a sound as I struggle to take it all in.

  He leans down and murmurs close to my ear, “I thought you could use a real desk for your schoolwork, and I need a quiet place to check emails and keep up with my work too. But it’s yours, Windy. I’ll just borrow it every now and then to keep tabs on things at the office.”

  “This isn’t a desk, Thorn, this…this is a home office.” It really is amazing. I can do my writing, my homework and even do some extra research for my job. “I just…I don’t know what to say. This is just so thoughtful, but it’s too much.” I turn to him and he pulls me into his arms. And that’s when I look over his shoulder and see the bed. My twin bed is gone and has been replaced by a full-size bed. He has taken over my entire room, if not my entire life, in a single day.

  “What did you do with my bed? My twin bed is fine, it’s all I need. And where is the sofa? Why is there another bed in my room, Thorn?” I ask in a bewildered voice, pushing away from him and walking over to the side of the bed. It’s a four poster bed, smaller than queen-size but far bigger than my old twin bed.

  “I told you, I made some changes to make this place safer and more comfortable,” he says quietly, standing just behind me. “The guys and I installed the security system this morning; I’ll walk you and Melissa through the particulars tonight. They also brought over some furniture I asked for, to make your bedroom more comfortable for us.”

  At that, I spin around and glare at him, preparing to eviscerate him with a few choice words about his presumptuousness. The room isn’t much – but it’s mine. But the words die in my throat when I see the determined, hard expression on his face. He meets my gaze without flinching, speaking the words firmly so there’s no mistaking his intentions. “I’m not bunking on that couch again. I require a bed,” he says as he takes a step toward me. “Your bed.”

  He rests one hand on my hip and cradles my jaw with the other, his gaze warm and steady, his voice soft and seductive. “I’m here to stay, Windy. There’s no getting rid of me. Ten years ago? Our lives were different. Our relationship was different, and that was as it should be. But now? Now, I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose you again.”

  “But, Thorn, this is all too much, too fast--” I start to protest, my mind reeling.

  “Shhhh…,” he says, leaning in to kiss my lips and put a stop to any thoughts of resistance. “This is our time,” he whispers against my lips. I melt in his arms as he takes my mouth in a possessive, claiming kiss that heats my blood and takes my breath. When we come up for air, my fingers are gripping locks of his hair and I can barely hear his words over my thundering heartbeat. “I won’t rush you,” he breathes, “but you need to understand that I’m in your life now and I’ll damn sure be in your bed. Nothing will happen that you don’t want, that you’re not completely ready for. In fact,” he says, cupping my bottom with both hands, kneading my ass cheeks as he pulls me up against his hard length, “I’ll go so far as to say that, beyond the basics of us getting better acquainted, nothing is going to happen in that bed that you don’t beg me for.”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath,” I scoff breathlessly, trying to come across as skeptical and experienced, but I’m not sure how convincing I am. “That bed may be bigger than my old twin bed, but it’s still barely big enough to hold you, let alone both of us.”

  He responds by giving me a heavy-lidded smirk before clarifying, “Oh, it’s plenty big for what I have in mind. Big enough to get my ass off your couch, snug enough to keep you right where I want you. I’d say that makes it ‘just right.’”

  Thorn

  “When you enter the apartment, remember to press the red button after you enter the security code. That sets the alarm and notifies Undercover Elite that you’re inside the house. If you don’t press the red button, all hell will break loose, I can promise you that. My men don’t play around when we get an alarm signal from one of our systems.” I look pointedly from Windy to Melissa, making sure they understand how to work their new security system. “You don’t want the hounds of hell at your door, you press the red button. Got it?”

  “Got it,” the two women respond in unison.

  “Good. Now, I suggest we all turn in. I know I’ve kept you up later than usual to go over the new system, and we’ve all got to get up early.”

  Melissa wishes us both a good night and sends an amused grin in Windy’s direction. Windy just rolls her eyes and heads down the hall to her bedroom. Our bedroom.

  After a final security check of the premises, I head to the bedroom and find Windy under the covers, curled up as close to the edge of the bed as she can get. Her eyes are closed but I can tell from her breathing that she’s wide awake. I take a quick shower in the bathroom across the hall, dry off and wrap the towel around my hips.

  As I enter the bedroom, my gaze is pulled to the bed where Windy is now sleeping soundly with a small smile on her lips. I grab some boxers from the drawer I’ve claimed in Windy’s dresser and slide them on. I don’t usually wear any clothes to bed, but I don’t want to get her de
fenses up so underwear is a necessary evil for the moment. I slide in under the covers behind Windy. I wrap an arm around her waist, my hand covering her flat belly as I pull her in close to me. The icy water temperature I suffered through in the shower did nothing to ease the stubborn erection that now presses against the small of her back. I guess that’s going to be a necessary evil, too.

  Holding her close like this fills a hole somewhere inside me that I had stopped paying attention to years ago. I drift off to sleep easier and faster than I have in years, her ass nestled up against me and the smell of her coconut shampoo wrapping around me. My last thought before sleep claims me is that the guys would never let me live it down if they knew I’d spent the whole day looking forward to being the big spoon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Windy

  I’m exhausted and, from the way my boss keeps studying me from his desk, it shows.

  “I have a proposition for you, Miss Fairchild.”

  “Well, why don’t we start with you calling me Windy?”

  “Very well…Windy.” He answers as if trying my name on for size. His tone is a mellow rumble and my name sounds good on his lips. I’m certain my boss has no problem with the ladies. His natural elegance and the inherently dark nature that lurks just below his professional facade are strangely alluring. I wonder if that’s what drew a serial killer to become obsessed with him. Even more so, I wonder why he is drawn to her. Does he harbor some dark secret within that she can read? Maybe that’s her allure; her ability to read an otherwise unreadable man.