The Second Betrayal (3 page)

Donovan folded his arms across his broad chest and hitched one shoulder against the frame of the door he'd just closed behind him. The floor-to-ceiling windows were currently covered by my office's sleek black vertical blinds. "Agreed."

Enthusiasm for our plan took over. I rested my forearms on my modern, sleek black desktop and leaned forward.

"Smithe's team just needs to put the finishing touches on the fictitious history for me." I almost rolled my eyes at the thought of Smithe, who was always up to something.

With a very unladylike snort, I continued. "Of course Smithe embellished the rap sheet, but it is good. Still comes down to me having run a successful cathouse for nine years here in Boston. Smithe even managed to create fake

articles in the
Boston Globe
and several other rags about me being busted for my girls having sex with clientele willing to cough up the money."

"How long since the bust?" Donovan looked so sexy the way he leaned up against the door...

"A year. Long enough to be sure no one would pay any attention to me now. I've had plenty of money to last me, blah, blah, but now I need the income to continue my comfortable lifestyle."

Donovan nodded. "Exactly what we wanted."

I rocked back in my chair. Nothing on the rap sheet that would put me on the radar with any government agencies.

This Beeff Giger bastard will see my solid history of handling girls. I'll have moved to Brooklyn to get away from the heat in Boston and stay low for a while."

"I don't think we'll have a problem getting you in once the current madame is out." Donovan looked thoughtful. "I assume Smithe has my background set up so that it shouldn't be too big of an issue getting on as one of the handlers."

"You'll have to rough yourself up a bit, Donovan." I appraised him and tried not to smile. "You don't look like a hard-core prostitute handler."

"And you don't look like a hard-core madame," he said, his tone dry but almost amused.

"All it will take is a little wardrobe change and just the right made-up look." Georgina, my best friend and fellow RED

agent, was brilliant at helping me with that kind of thing. Plus she currently wasn't on an undercover op. "Yeah, makeup and adding about four inches to my height." Thank God for stilettos.

The corner of his mouth quirked in one of his rare smiles. He look so incredibly hot and sexy that I instantly wanted to jump his bones.

If he took me hard and fast, we could do it in a few extra minutes ...

I caught my breath as Donovan read the desire in my eyes. His gaze darkened and I heard the lock click as he reached behind him. The floor-to-ceiling blinds were drawn and it was just me and Donovan.

He moved toward me with clear determination. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I shoved my chair back and it rolled across the tiled floor with a clatter as I stood. When he reached me, I was in his arms before I could catch my breath.

Our mouths met, his taking mine hard and fierce. I returned the kiss equally as fierce. He always tasted so good. Felt so good. Smelled so good.

He raised his head, his expression primal, his eyes changing to a deep cobalt blue. "Right here, Steele. Right now."

"You talk too much." I reached for his belt and started to unfasten it.

Donovan pulled up my top and jerked down my bra so that it was beneath my breasts

Cool air met my nipples and I gasped from the delicious sensation. Donovan grasped my hips, lowered his head, and

covered one of my nipples with his warm mouth. I gave a low moan when he sucked hard on one nipple.

As much as I wished they were, the walls weren't soundproof and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hold back

whimpers and moans of pleasure.

I finished unbuckling his jeans and had the top button undone with a twist. His long, thick cock felt like satin-covered steel when it escaped the tough cotton. If we had enough time I'd have gone down on him because I wanted to taste

him so badly.

Instead, I continued to gasp and moan as I kicked off my running shoes then unfastened my own belt and jeans. I

shimmied out of them, but slow enough so that my holstered weapon didn't hit the floor too hard. Still, it and my two cell phones thumped as I kicked the jeans aside.

Donovan raised his gaze to meet mine as he picked me up by my hips and set me on the edge of the desk that was cool beneath my ass. Thank God for keeping my desk bare.

He pushed my thighs wide and gripped me with one hand while he grasped his erection in his other.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry." I wiggled on the edge of the desk, closer to him. "You can't be inside me fast enough."

Donovan smiled his most dangerous smile and entered me in one hard thrust.

Jesus.
I wanted to cry out at the exquisite pleasure of him inside me and it was almost impossible to keep from letting myself let it rip. The feel of his jeans and holstered gun and phone on his belt added to the eroticism of the moment.

I clung to his biceps as he began pounding in and out of me so deep and incredible that I felt like saying to hell with it.

But I did like my job a whole lot.

"Come, Lexi." Donovan's words came out in a growl. He called me Lexi when we were intimate even though I always called him Donovan, and it turned me on. "I want to feel you around my cock when you climax."

He didn't have to tell me another time because I was already there.

A rush of pleasure rocketed through me, expanding from my core to my fingertips, my toes, my scalp. It was hot and

molten and felt beyond fantastic.

My head almost ached from clenching my teeth so tightly to keep from really crying out. His continuous thrusting

movements drew my climax out and I enjoyed the ride.

He came with a harsh but low sound and his cock throbbed and pulsed inside of me while my core continued to clench

him.

His breathing was rough and hot against my hair as he rested his chin on my scalp. While he stayed inside me, I

pressed my cheek to his T-shirt and heard the fast beat of his heart.

I tried to catch my breath well enough to talk. "We did order our agents to be in the conference room at three."

"Unfortunately," Donovan murmured against my head.

We adjusted positions and I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. "The team needs to move now. We've got to get on it."

Donovan rubbed his thumb across my cheek. "Trust you to follow great sex with work."

I grinned. "Hey, but we had sex first. Priorities, you know."

He gave me one of his adorable and rare smiles as he drew out of me and adjusted himself before zipping up. After he moved far enough away, I slid off the desk and climbed back into my jeans before slipping my running shoes back on.

When we made sure each other looked decent enough to not appear like we'd just had sex in my office, we sat down to get to work.

My core still felt sensitive, but I forced myself to be the senior agent I was. A senior agent who had just fucked her fellow senior agent.

I took a deep breath as I queued up the op on my large computer screen. I turned it slightly so that Donovan could see it from where he now sat in a chair in front of my desk.

"Twenty-four hours after the meeting," I said, still trying to catch my breath, "our team better be fully prepared and standing at the gates to board the plane to JFK to put
Operation Little Red Riding Hood
in motion." I cocked my head.

"Once we get our claws into enough meat to get Hagstedt, we shift to
Operation Big Bad Wolf

Donovan studied me with his damned incredible blue eyes but no discernible expression on his harsh but handsome

features. I knew he hated it when I took control and didn't ask his opinion. But even after working so many months

together, I couldn't help my natural inclination to make decisions on my own.

"We'll change things up a bit and bring Kerrison in on
Little Red
to replace Jensen," Donovan said in a way that sounded like he considered his statement a done deal. "She's new, but from everything I've seen she's got what it takes, and the fieldwork will be good experience for her."

I didn't let my surprise show that he'd recommended the new agent,
and
that he wanted her on the inside with me.

"That's not a good idea, Donovan. Kerrison's untrained and not ready for this kind of undercover op."

Donovan gestured to my glass wall that would give a perfect view of the CC if the blinds were open. I pictured

Kerrison sitting in front of her monitor, her long sunset-red hair pushed over her shoulders. "She'll be perfect for decoding any messages that might come your way when we get you two on the inside," Donovan was saying. "Plus, we can really use Jensen in surveillance."

Of course he was right. If Kerrison could decode anything as fast as she'd taken care of today's intercepted

communication, she'd be an incredible asset on the inside. Marti Jensen was top-notch, but she could be used on the surveillance and raid team just as easily.

Still, I found myself pushing it. "I know I wouldn't have a problem with Jensen avoiding the kind of attention the bastards might try on her. If anyone got rough with her, she knows how to take care of them."

"Kerrison can do the job." Donovan met my stare with a solid look. "Martinez can prep her on using the same bracelet Jensen would have worn, and he can size a ring for Kerrison. It won't take him long to brief her on the narcotics

contained in the jewelry that will keep any sonofabitch away from her if she's forced to use them."

Donovan's words brought me to a halt. "During
Cinderella,
you told Oxford you didn't want to put me in the kind of danger I ended up in. As if a woman can't hold her own." I cocked my head as I studied him. "And now you're ready to let a junior female agent throw herself into a pack of wolves?"

Irritation flashed across Donovan's features. "You know I think all of RED's agents, female or male, are equally capable." He was quiet for a moment as his eyes held mine and his tone softened. "But
Cinderella
— from the beginning I had a bad feeling about that op."

"Yeah, yeah." I held my palm to my T-shirt, over the Chinese symbol meaning "dragon" tattooed around my belly button.

That op had gone bad. Real bad.

"We came up lucky with what Rublev got through to us." I figured I'd change the subject super-fast since thinking about what was beneath that dragon tat wasn't something I liked. "What she's doing isn't pretty. And it's dangerous for her to be taking chances like she did to get that intel."

Jenika Rublev had been a willing prostitute in a cat-house in Nevada, but I still didn't like the fact that she was having sex with men—and sometimes women— to feed us intel from the inside. Even though I'd been the one to go to her

and offer her the assignment and the cash.

"Rublev made the choice, Steele. She jumped at the hundred grand to put aside for her twins' college education,"

Donovan said. "Not to mention part of it will help her get out of that Nevada shithole. Once this op is over, RED will make sure the job they land for her in the private sector will be damned good paying, too."

I sighed. "She was a lucky find."

When Donovan came up with the idea of searching for a Russian prostitute to work as a cooperative, I hadn't been

crazy about it. But I'd still contacted some of RED's branch offices until I hit pay dirt in Nevada. I should have started there instead of LA and New York City since prostitution was legal in some parts of Nevada. One of the Las Vegas

agents recommended Rublev. Wasn't sure exactly how the agent was familiar with the prostitute, but from the way he

talked about her, I had my suspicions.

"Rublev can take care of herself." Nick leaned back in his seat. "She's been doing that since she emigrated from Russia."

"I suppose." I rested one forearm on the desk and glanced at the monitor, which had the beautiful prostitute's dossier next to Kerrison's. "She did say that the madame at her Nevada cathouse made sure her working girls knew how to de-ball any man who tried to get rough."

If I wasn't mistaken, Donovan winced at the
de-ball
comment. Men.

Rublev had turned to prostitution when she came to America and couldn't find a job in the sinking economy. She

brought in good money in the cat-house, so she had stayed with it for the past two years to care for her twins and to be able to set some money aside.

Fortunately for this op, Rublev looked barely seventeen even though she was twenty-two. These bastards-liked their

girls young. We'd shipped her to Russia with her own fictitious background—using our Moscow contacts—hopefully

to be chosen as one of a group of girls to be taken to a New York "modeling agency."

It had been close, but Rublev had made the "modeling agency" 's cut. She'd been sent with a group of nineteen other girls to a so-called gentleman's club. We just hadn't known which one until two months ago when she'd gotten word to us that she was at the Elite Gentleman's Club in Manhattan.

Pay dirt.

"Instead of going with everyone tomorrow, Saturday, you'll head out at nine pm on Sunday," Donovan was saying, drawing my attention fully to him. My skin prickled like a porcupine starting to bristle. He was giving me an order?

"You need to be with your family for Sunday supper," he continued. "Zane said Ryan is in port. It might be a while before you see all of them again."

Heat crept from my body to my neck and to my face. There I was, barreling through life as usual and Donovan had

been the one to remind me of the most important day of the week for my parents as well as the rest of us. With Ryan on leave from the Marines, all five of my brothers would be here as well as my sister.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

We spent the next forty-five minutes laying out plans for our backup team, surveillance, and every detail down to

making sure our fictitious personal rap sheets were perfect.