“So . . . what?” He clearly didn’t want to say it. “Go on and tell me, Matt.”

“Detached,” he said, his voice dropping low. “You don’t need me.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Really? Was this his excuse?

“What the fuck is your deal?” I screamed it at him and had to latch a hand onto the bedroom doorframe when my vision blurred. Oh, hello, nausea. Welcome to the party. “You’re going to blame me for your inability to keep your dick in your pants?”

“No—”

“Get out.” When he didn’t move immediately, I added, “Get the fuck out.”

“Don’t do this. I screwed up, but don’t go back to hiding behind your gun and your badge—” Matt’s mouth snapped shut.

“Shit,” the girl said, “you didn’t say your girlfriend was a cop.”

My voice was dark. “I’m not.”

Perhaps if I wasn’t clinging to the doorframe and trying to stay above the pain, I might have read him the riot act for almost revealing I was FBI. But the pain distracted and kept me calm.

“Not your girlfriend either,” I clarified, my gaze locked on Matt. “You can come by tomorrow to get your stuff when I’m not here. Drop your key in the mailbox when you’re done.”

“Wait, let’s talk about—”

I slammed the bedroom door in his face, wincing at the noise, but it was worth it. A heartbeat later I had my pillow mashed on top of my head, shutting out the world.

At mid-morning the Starbucks was surprisingly empty. I grabbed a muffin and a cup of coffee, then dropped down into a seat across from my handler, Shane.

“Not much to report,” I said. “The guy Nina took last night wasn’t connected. I didn’t hear anything of interest, but I’ll log it all tomorrow.”

Shane blinked. “Good morning.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Morning.” I crammed a chunk of muffin in my mouth.

He gave me an easy smile. Shane was a good guy, who ne

ver bristled at my direct attitude, but also called me on my bullshit. I had a lot of respect for him, and trusted him literally with my life.

I’d been working this undercover assignment for a year, but it felt like a lifetime. It was a pretty good gig, and certainly better than my last. My days were free to work the desk at the bureau and help out, and in order to keep up appearances, I got salon treatments and a shopping budget on the government dime. I would have rather spent time at the shooting range or in the field, but after Nevada . . . I was lucky to land another primary assignment so soon.

The bureau didn’t have options. I’d gone through undercover training at Quantico, had experience, and I’d relocated to the windy city after the major bust in Reno. When the opportunity to get someone inside the blindfold club arose, I wasn’t just the best choice for the Chicago branch, I was the only one.

I’d changed to my middle name and taken the fake last name of Wilson, and Shane always used it. We met out in public, so it was easier this way for him not to slip.

“What about the other girls?”

I shook my head. “Nope. No fish on the line.”

That was what this operation was all about, catching the little fish in our net, and getting them to bait the hook for larger ones. The evidence I’d collected during my undercover work had already assisted in a half-dozen investigations for multiple branches of law enforcement, but the truly big fish still eluded me.

Congressman Victor Bennett. Shane and I both believed he was as dirty as they came, which was saying a lot for ‘Crook’ County, but the Congressman’s people were loyal. We had no concrete evidence, and still hadn’t found anyone willing to flip on him.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Shane reminded. “One of Bennett’s aides or an alderman he’s worked with is bound to walk through the doors.”

“Sooner would be better.” The bureau typically capped undercover roles at a year, although they’d let this one run longer. Even if what Shane said was true, it could take weeks to secure the little fish’s cooperation and verify their testimony. Pulling together all of the elements to support a corruption charge, one that would stick, was a lengthy, tedious process.

“You okay?” Worry edged Shane’s eyes.

“I’m fine.” I turned my coffee cup on the tabletop. Since Shane was my handler, I needed to make sure he had all of the information, including my personal life. Most of my undercover work overlapped with my regular life. It was the easiest way not to get caught in a lie. “When I came home last night, I caught Matt with another woman. So . . . that’s over.”

Tags: Nikki Sloane Blindfold Club Erotic
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