Betrayed (Dark Desires 2)

“I have a proposition for you,” he said as he slid onto a stool at my kitchen island and waited for me to set a cold beer in front of him.

“I thought you were seeing Greta Vance,” I said, trying to keep jealousy and condescension out of my voice. “What’s wrong, Ed? Can’t Greta bend over all the way and grab your balls like I can.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not why I’m here,” he said, taking a sip of the cold beer and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “And no, she is not as limber as you, but she is much nicer.”

“Nice never got you off, as I recall,” I said, standing across the island from him with my arms crossed ov

er my chest. “So, what’s up?”

He took another slow sip of beer and stared at me from over the top of the can. His deep blue eyes bore into mine. I always said his eyes should have been brown because he was so full of shit. I felt my pulse quicken as I waited for him to swallow and speak. If he wasn’t there to fuck me, what on earth did he want?

Finally, he asked, “How would you feel about getting out of Vice and coming to work for me?”

I blinked at him. “In Homicide?”

He shook his head. “I just got a promotion,” he said, licking foam from his lips. “I am the head of the newly-formed Organized Crime Task Force. I have been commanded to put together a core team of five investigators and I’d like you to be one of them.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why me?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Well, you can be a royal pain in the ass, but you’re also one of the best investigators on the force. I’ve kept up with your arrest and conviction record in Vice and you have the highest conviction rate on the squad.”

“It’s not that difficult to bust hookers and johns,” I said with a sigh. “I assume they are not the focus of your new task force.”

He shook his head. “No, we are going after the gangs, particularly those who are operating along the docks and waterfront, smuggling in everything from dope to humans to fake purses.” He gave me a hard look. “And we will not discriminate. We’ll hit the Italians, the Irish, the Russians. We will not discriminate when it comes to assholes breaking the law.”

“And what would my role be?” I asked, feeling a little tingle of excitement working its way through my body. I couldn’t help it. Even though we were divorced, Ed was still one of the sexiest men I’d ever known. And our sexual history often made it hard to concentrate on anything other than fucking him. I felt the old familiar feeling of hotness pooling between my legs.

“You would be promoted to investigator third class, given a gold shield, and be an active member of the team.” He finished the beer and ran his tongue across his lips. I couldn’t help but watch his tongue slide in and out. “You will report directly to me. It will not be a democracy and there’ll be no special favors because of our history. I am the boss and what I say goes.”

“Well, I’m used to that,” I said, giving him a dreamy look that did not go unnoticed. His eyes swept across my face and he took a deep breath. It was hard for us to be in a room alone without tearing at each other’s clothes. I could tell he was doing his best to keep his mind on the topic at hand.

Ed cleared his throat and worked up a frown. “So, you interested?”

I couldn’t help it. I was about to get in the shower when he knocked on my door. I was just wearing a bathrobe over my panties and bra. I tugged loose the sash and let the robe fall down my arms. Ed swallowed hard when he saw my big tits covered only by the lacy bra. I came around the bar to stand between his knees. I could smell the sweat forming on his upper lip. Bless him, he was trying so hard to be good.

I cupped my hands to my breasts and cooed at him.

“I’m interested. Are you?”

Ed slid his hands around my waist and dug his fingers into my ass cheeks. He said, “If you come to work for me, we can’t do this anymore.”

“You sure you’re willing to make that trade?” I asked, sliding my arms around his neck and planting little kisses around his jawline.

Ed sighed in my ear. “I can be good if you can.”

“Oh, Ed, you know me,” I said, my tongue wetting his lips. “I can be very, very good.”

Sean

When I graduated from Harvard with a law degree and the desire to take on the world, I had no idea that I’d end up working for my father, the notorious Irish gangster, Patsy O’Connor.

I refer to him as “notorious Irish gangster” because that’s what the press and the cops have called him for if I could remember. Even growing up, the neighborhood kids treated me differently just because I was the son of Patsy O’Connor.

Even the neighborhood bullies gave me a wide path, only working up the nerve to talk to me to offer their services for protection, enforcement, or vengeance.

If you ever need anybody’s ass kick, Sean, you just let us know.

Uh, sure. Will do. I mean, what do you when you’re ten years old and the bullies want to work for you.