Undercovers (2 page)

His head snapped up then, and her gaze collided with his piercing emerald green eyes that she swore could see straight to her soul.

“Can I help you, Detective?” His full lips curled into a flirtatious grin and he leaned back in his chair, his hands clasping behind his head, drawing her attention to his broad and defined torso.

She fought not to roll her eyes, her lips twisting into a frown. He thought he was God’s gift to women—all women—supernatural and human alike, and he never passed up an opportunity to display the reason why he held that notion. She hated men like him, men who took advantage of women just because they could. Men who were liars, cheats and users. Had she not been a rookie, and had he not been her superior, she would have told him what to do with his conceit. But she needed this position, this assignment in particular, and was determined to do a good job. She was the first, and only of her kind to be recruited to the Las Vegas Supernatural Crime Unit. She had a lot to prove—mainly that she was just as capable as any other
supra
.

“Captain Alekseev sent me. Said you needed a single female for this assignment.” She’d thought it was a strange request, the need for a single female, until she’d read the specs for the case. There were already few females who worked for the unit, even fewer single females, and none who possessed her unique talents. The captain had picked her because she was the only one in the entire unit who could actually complete the assignment.

Roarke raked his gaze over her, and she bristled when his eyes settled on her breasts, before dipping lower to stare at the juncture between her thighs. Her temper—that blasted Southern temper of hers—flared to life, and a fiery insult was on the tip of her tongue when Roarke abruptly shot out of his seat and propped himself against his desk, his arms folding across his chest.

“So Gabe sent you? A rookie.”

“I assure you, I can do the job. I graduated top of my class from the academy and I’ve worked with Lieutenant Talbot-Alekseev on my last four assignments who has spoken very highly of my performances—”

“This isn’t vice, rookie. We’re investigating three homicides.”

“I know that sir. I read the specs.”

He was quiet, his face impassive. She knew how dangerous this assignment was. A group of rogue vampires were running an illegal prostitution ring of human females and using a strip club as the front. It would have been a job for vice alone had some rogue asshole not bled three human females dry.

“I’m ready for this assignment.” Her voice was firm. “Captain and Lieutenant Alekseev would not have recommended me had they not thought I could handle it.”

Roarke stroked his jaw, the strong tanned length of his fingers drawing her gaze. Her breath hitched in her chest when his emerald eyes darkened to a forest green and he stood straighter, the intensity of his stare making her want to fidget.

“I trust Collette and Gabe with my life, so if they think you’re ready then I believe them.” He circled her, and she forced herself to remain rooted to her spot as if she was at attention. “But while we’re out there on assignment, it’ll just be you and me, working alone. It’s up to us to bring this creep in, so I have to trust you.” He stopped behind her, his body so close she could feel heat vibrating off of him in waves. He swept her hair aside, his lips so close to her ear that his warm breath tickled the skin along her neck. “I need to know that you’re willing to do anything to get this job done. That you won’t let your fears blow our cover.”

Superior or not, she batted his hand away, skin growing hot as her temper ignited.

She wasn’t stupid—his veiled insult hit its mark. He questioned her half-human blood, the part of her that was weak—that same part of her that allowed her to mask her vampire blood from other vampires—including a rogue vampire killing human women. That same part of her made her the only supernatural in the entire unit who could do this particular job.

“What is it that I need to do to prove to you that I know how to handle myself out in the field?” she bit out, her entire body vibrating with barely controlled anger. She’d been taunted and teased all her life—an outcast among both humans and vampires. His insult didn’t so much as pierce her armour, it only made her more defensive, more defiant, and even more determined to do well.

He didn’t step back, not even an inch, as he circled around to face her. They stood eye to eye, toe to toe, heat radiating from their bodies, tinged with emotion. Hers was that of anger, his—desire?

“Before I let you go out into the field with me, I need to be certain of your abilities, which is why I need you to do one thing for me.”

She arched a single brow. “And that would be?” she asked, when he didn’t move to finish.

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “I need you to strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your assignment is to pose as an exotic dancer so I need you to strip, right here, right now, for me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t really think that’s nece—”

“Oh it’s necessary. Earlier, when I stared at your breasts and your pussy, you got upset. Just now, you cringed at the mention of the word ‘pussy’.” He drawled out the word, his lips quirking into a grin. He was enjoying her embarrassment.

“You’re serious?”

“Very. What stripper doesn’t strip? What stripper winces at the word ‘pussy’? If you can’t strip for me, then you can’t strip in a club packed full of men.” He inched his way closer, the broad width of his chest grazing her breasts. She fought not to react, but it was a struggle, her body and emotions warring. “You said you read the specs for the assignment, so you must know that I’m posing as a buyer, and that I intend to purchase you for a night, maybe more.” He leaned into her, his words barely a whisper, but she heard every single one. “There is a possibility you will end up in my bed, and you will have to do it, Jasmeene. You will have to fuck me as if you are a real stripper, making money on the side.” She shuddered at his words. She’d read the specs, knew that was a possibility, but to read it and be confronted with it, no correction, to be confronted with the man she would possibly have to sleep with, were two different things entirely.

“Strip. Strip for me,” he whispered, breaking into her thoughts.

His softly spoken command left her no choice. Besides, he had a point—what stripper was afraid to strip?

She reached back and locked the door.

The air trapped in Roarke’s chest, burnt his lungs. He released it when Jasmeene’s delicate fingers went to the top button of her blouse. It felt as if he’d never wanted anything more in his entire life—never waited for something so long. It probably felt that way because that’s exactly what his situation was.

Jasmeene LeCourt, the youngest child of the oldest vampire in the world and her human consort. Her blood was so powerful, so ancient, she could shield her thoughts and identity from other vampires. But as powerful as her blood was, it was tainted. The human side of her concerned him. Her emotions, her fears, were legacies of her human father. They would cripple her if she didn’t conquer them and put them aside. A vampire wasn’t ashamed of sex, did not fear displaying her body. If she was going to be effective in her position, that was the side of herself she needed to master.

He leaned against his desk. “Come now Jasmeene, move your body. You’re as lifeless as a board.” He enjoyed taunting her, seeing that fire leap in her whisky brown eyes, and her famous temper ignite. It was one of the things that drew him to her, her fire, and the promise of explosive passion that vibrated just beneath the surface.

“You told me to strip—stripping is taking off one’s clothes. Now if you want me to dance—”

“You’re an exotic dancer. Take off your clothes like one.” She wanted to throttle him. It was there in her eyes. But that wasn’t new. Every time she looked at him, it was with disdain. He wished he could read her exact thoughts, but it really wasn’t necessary. His gift was that he was an empath—he could feel her feelings, tap into her emotions. She hated his guts, couldn’t stand him. Undoubtedly, because she thought he was a player, and from what little Collette had told him, she despised players.

He was a player, didn’t have time or the need for one woman, but Jasmeene intrigued him. He’d spent more time thinking about her than he cared to admit. Maybe once he’d bedded her, he’d get her out of his system, but as he watched her reveal a delicate swell of her gorgeous breasts, he wondered if bedding her would be enough.

It was because she denied him. His charm was absolutely useless on her. In all his centuries, he’d never met a woman he’d wanted who he couldn’t charm, who he couldn’t have—and gods be damned, he wanted her.

She peeled off her clothes slowly, twisting and turning her body with a seductive grace that heated his blood. His cock hardened, pushing against the confines of his jeans.

She stood before him in her white bra and cotton panties. Not the under things he was used to seeing on his women, but on her, it was sexy as hell. Her mahogany skin was rich and dark, her smooth flesh a stark contrast to the white garments. He thought she would stop, claiming she’d stripped for him, but she didn’t.

Her brown eyes darkened, a dangerous glint burning in their depths. His heart stuttered in his chest at the look in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to seduce him—trying to beat him at his own game. Well then she’d won, because she held him captive, an earthquake couldn’t make him move from the spot he was rooted to.

She undulated her hips, her hands reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. He counted the seconds that it would take for it to fall. It should have been three, but at the last second she spun around, peeking at him from over her bare shoulder. The feathery soft curls of her hair swept across her back, drawing his gaze to the silhouette of a she-devil with a pitchfork tattooed there, along with the words,
Bad Girl
.

He raised a brow. “So you’re a bad girl, huh?” She answered him with a sassy wink, but she didn’t have to say a word, he’d already read her file. Her regal mother had been driven to fits by her youngest, who turned out to be a very bad girl who was constantly getting into trouble. Everyone from her clan had breathed a sigh of relief when she’d decided to become a cop, and walk the straight and narrow.

All thoughts of her past vanished, the present his only concern, when she released her bra and spun around, revealing perfect, full breasts. She did well in hiding them behind drab suits, and bulky shirts, but he’d known she had a dynamite body underneath it all.

His dick jumped in his pants, aching to be set free in order to plunge into the wet heat of the woman before him. He drew in even breaths, fighting to squelch his arousal, especially when she hooked her fingers in her elastic waistband and drew her panties down toned, shapely legs, revealing a gloriously beautiful, shaved pussy.

He couldn’t breathe, was certain he was about to pass out when she began to dance in earnest then, the full mounds of her breasts bobbing, her round apple bottom jiggling before him. Damn, she had an ass on her. He’d never figured himself an ass man, but he was well on his way to rethinking that.

Another thing he was rethinking was his obsession with tall, leggy model types. She may have been short, but she was firm and toned, her body lush and soft in all the right places. Apparently big things did come in small packages.

He crossed the room, unable to refrain from touching her any longer. Her back was to him, and he startled her when he spun her around, trapping her between the wall and his hard frame.

His cock was hard and heavy, and her eyes widened when the thick bulge pressed into her soft belly. He skimmed his hands over her smooth, dark flesh, his skin flushing with heat as lust wrapped around him. He’d never experienced this before, this wild out of control need to take a woman, to claim her. It had been this way for him ever since Jasmeene had joined the unit. The only other time he’d felt something even close to this had been centuries ago, with a woman who was long gone, and would always be a mystery to him.

She pushed at his chest. “What are you do—”

“Kiss me,” he rasped.

“Why? I know how to kiss. And if we have to sleep together while on assignment, I promise you I won’t fuck that up.”

He shoved a hand in her hair, wrenching her head back. His entire body was on fire.

His incisors lengthened and he realised he was losing control to the beast within, but it was already too late.

“Kiss me, Jasmeene,” he demanded, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips, the man almost completely gone now.

Her eyes were wide, but even in his red haze of lust, he noticed that he didn’t sense fear. He was wild, on the edge of control, and yet, she didn’t fear him.

Her fingers were gentle against his face as she cupped his cheek.

She called his name, her voice soft, as if she was coaxing him back to her, then arched towards him, her lips capturing his in a tender kiss. He fought against the savagery inside him that demanded he take control of the kiss and crush his lips to hers. It was a struggle, but he allowed her to gently thrust inside his mouth with her tongue, seeking the taste of him, the texture of him.

With her gentle kiss, she drew him back from the edge, and he relaxed against her, his mouth deepening the kiss, sucking on her full lips before driving once again inside her with his tongue.

He was so lost in the feel and taste of her, so caught up by her spell that it took him several seconds to realise someone called his name.

It was Gabe. With a muffled curse, he jerked away. Not waiting for her to clothe herself, he waved his hand, her garments once again covering her luscious body.

“You better go. I’ll go over the rest of the assignment with you this afternoon.”

She nodded, her face a mask of professionalism, as if they hadn’t been on their way to fucking each other up against his wall.

She swung open the door, just as Gabe was poised to knock.

“Excuse me, Captain,” she said crisply, pushing past his best friend and boss.