Spotlight Chapter: THE INVESTIGATOR
Mystery phone calls. Beautiful women. A life on the run.
All’s in a day’s work for Jackson Reed. Investigator extraordinaire. Lifelong playboy.
Until she shows up again.
__
“There are lots of twists and turns which will keep you on your toes. The smoldering chemistry between Jackson and Penelope is hot.” – Tricia, Amazon Reviewer
I love this twisty story of danger, redemption and a rekindled romance more than a decade in the making.
READ an exclusive chapter from the second standalone in the Kisses and Crimes series below. The Investigator is live on Amazon, Nook, iBooks and Kobo now, and I can’t wait for you to read it!
___
She’d broken her word.
Five minutes ago, I asked my secretary, Mable, to leave my office phone on “Do Not Disturb” and here I was, five minutes later, getting disturbed. A call from “Fast Taxis” made its way through. A voicemail from Jeff had found its way to my phone, blinking as annoyingly as the kid himself, and by the time, the third call came through, I was ready to blow a gasket. I nearly ripped the cord from the wall.
The only thing that stopped me was my internal reminder that it was lunch. My growling stomach was right on time, and I called out to Mable for the fourth iteration from a small opening in my large office door.
“Mable?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What’s the word on the Chinese?”
“The Chinese?”
“Yeah. The Chinese.”
“Oh. Boozi chulli,” she answered.
Bulls-eye what? What the… What the fuck was that? “Excuse me? I didn’t quite get that.”
She huffed. “Mandarin. Means ‘it’s not here yet.’”
I could hear her smile through the door. I wasn’t amused… Well, yeah, I was, but I didn’t want her to know it. She was old enough to be my mother, but I was still the fucking boss.
“Smart-ass,” I called through the crack in the door.
“Hey, hey, hey! Watch your language, young man. I can still put you across my knee.”
“And I’m sure you would, Mable. And please… no more calls this time. Not even those spammy e-mails I keep getting. Not unless it’s Chinese. I’ve got a splitting fucking headache.”
And who wouldn’t? A potential lawsuit from the taxi company, a week-long suspension of one of my most eager associates and Reed Investigations Agency wasn’t looking too good this quarter. Not to mention the Harrison assignment had gone bust. I was fucked. I might have even had to give up Mable… And I wasn’t too keen on handing over my favorite girl “Maybelline” to just any crock-of-shit company.
I had to figure something the fuck out. And that’s when it happened. She crossed my mind. Again. She always did at the weirdest fucking times. This just happened to be one of my most reasonable ones. Because, well, she was a lawyer… and technically, I had one heated cabbie who wanted to sue my ass.
But, speaking of asses…
I got up from my desk, strolling over to my open front door before closing the soundproof wood quickly. I settled back in my seat, stressed, and let my mind play with the one stress reliever that never disappointed. It had been fifteen years, and she was still my go-to, a fact that should have bothered me, but never did.
She was soft, firm in all the right places, and the skin I had once caressed had only gotten softer with time. Teenage muscle had melded into tight, delicate curves, sloping lines that flared out enticingly at the ass and hips. Sinewy arches had turned into handfuls that I could sink my fingertips into. She was a runner. Always had been. And her body had shown the marks of her hard work. That mouth, lush and scathing, was another beast when it was opened in the ways I liked most. When it was receptive. Receiving whatever I had to give…
I unzipped my black slacks. Her kiss was as intense as everything else about her. Her attitude. Her passion. Her love-making. I released myself from the unzipped hole, gripping my growing cock with a tightening fist. I stroked. Her hair, strawberry-colored and cool to the touch, had strands that were made for pulling, and pulling is exactly what the fuck I did. As often and as hard as I could to let her know one thing.
That she was mine.
Versions of her—young and older—flashed through my mind. Swapping places. Switching faces. And every one of them was beautiful. Fifteen years ago. Four years ago. Two months. It was all the same to me… because hers was a rejection I never forgot. I wanted to hate her, love her, fuck her and then repeat. And in my mind, I could. So that’s what I did. Pumping my dick into a fist that had magically become her tight center.
And it shouldn’t have been happening. I should have been imagining bending over a newly-single Mrs. Harrison, the coffee girl at the local shop, any-fucking-body but her. I was insane. You weren’t supposed to dwell on women you had been with a decade and a half before; you were supposed to forget them. I’d been with more women than I could count, using them to scrub the memory of her from my body, and it never fucking worked.
I still couldn’t get fucking rid of her. She had worked her way under my skin… and I tried to convince myself that the passion for her I felt was only disdain.
That goddamned Penelope. Warm—soft in all of the places that mattered. Her courtroom resolve meant nothing in my bedroom. Between my sheets, her tenacity melted. She melted… and I remembered what it was like to test and feel every wet inch. I stroked so hard I thought I might explode. And when that drop of moisture appeared at my tip, signaling the intensity of my arousal, I took my thumb and rubbed it around the head. Now slick around the tip, my cock slid smoothly between my fingers, pulsing as it prepared to reach its well-earned peak.
I felt Penelope’s name on the edge of my lips… and I didn’t hold it back. And just when I felt myself begin to come, just when my climax threatened to crash and ruin me, that fucking office phone rang.
I growled so deep that it was animalistic. Enraged, I snatched the black oblong headpiece from my office phone off the receiver. I had to tell myself to take it easy on the Chinese delivery man.
“Man, I’m telling you, Wu… my lunch better be piping fucking hot.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Sadly, darling… This isn’t Wu and, even more sadly, this isn’t lunch. But I don’t think you’ll mind in a few minutes.”
Surprise stole my voice. For the first time in a long while, I faltered for words. A feminine voice—breathy and genteel—spoke on the other line. It definitely wasn’t Wu, and I didn’t recognize it. But I did recognize the immediate reaction it gave me.
It was something about that voice. Maybe it was the intonation—proper and regal. It spoke of power, barely-concealed patience and a smugness that I knew all too well. The woman on the line had a smokiness in her voice that reminded me of Mable… and a latent threat that could only be the working of a Bureaucrat. The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle.
This was the type of voice I’d been used to… back when I was in “the Agency.” And I didn’t need another Fed fucking up my life. Hell, I wasn’t even going to let one fuck up my afternoon, let alone delay my next order of General Tso’s Chicken. My reply was as short as I could make it.
“Ahhh, another agent. Well, you’ll pardon my French, ma’am, but I’ve already spoken to you boys—and girls—enough now. I don’t know anything about what happened to Bishop. So, you’ll appreciate my frankness when I suggest that you and the Bureau quite literally suck a cock. I have nothing else to say to anyone.”
She laughed. It was a warm, curious sound, surprisingly without snootiness. I prepared to hang up the phone, but as soon as I begin to replace its receiver, she called out. Her next words shocked me. In fact, they were downright chilling.
“You’re still a southern gentleman, aren’t you, Mr. Reed? Sixteen years removed from Georgia, and, still, you call me ‘ma’am’ while you’re insulting me. Amazing. But this call isn’t about Mister Bishop, Mr. Reed. I’m not interested in fugitives. I’m interested in you.”
I balked, narrowing my eyes at nothing in particular. What did this woman know? And why did I have this overwhelming feeling that she already had the upper hand?
“What about me?” I gritted.
“I want to help you.”
I snorted. “Sure you do.”
“I do,” she cut in. “I want to save your company, Mr. Reed.” My heart started to beat a little harder. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Success with your own business?”
Anger made my arteries feel as if they were hardening. I could barely breathe. My chest felt tight. My lungs felt tight. And I’d never been so mad while my dick was hanging out of my pants. This was a first. I tucked my cock back in.
“What exactly are you calling for, Missus, uh…?”
“My name doesn’t matter,” she interrupted. “What I can do for you does.”
I sniffed. “And what exactly can you do for me?”
The line went silent. She hesitated, and I got the distinct impression that she had done so for effect. She wanted to draw me in, and given all of the information she had just divulged, I’d say she’d played her cards exactly right. Her teasing reeled me in. I was completely hooked.
“I do lots of things, Mr. Reed, for lots of different people. Mostly? I offer opportunities. And now I’m offering you one.”
I shifted in my seat. “I never asked for one.”
“You never thought to,” she drawled. “And that’s okay… because technically, I would be your client, and you would be my hire.”
“And—what if my roster were full?” I bluffed. I stood from my chair, sitting on the edge of my desk. “I don’t just take anybody, ma’am. There’s a vetting process involved. You don’t hire me. In my agency… I’m the one that chooses you.”
“That could never happen, Mr. Reed. This would have to be an anonymous deal on my part. I can’t promise that we’ll meet. Only that if we do… I’d prefer to keep things quiet. But I am more than happy to send my representative.”
“I don’t deal with representatives, ma’am.”
“I think you’ll make an exception this time…” Her tone was smug. “I think you’ll find Mr. Benjamin much more agreeable than me.”
“Mr. Benjamin?”
Confused, still fucking oblivious, I gave myself another minute to entertain this conversation before I ended it.
“Actually,” she corrected herself. “It’s more accurate to say Mr. Franklin instead. Benjamin Franklin.”
Now was my turn to laugh. I laughed so hard I thought I might fall off my desk. The bewilderment of my afternoon had made a sense of humor hard to come by… but this offer, so small and insignificant, gave me the release I sorely needed. I laughed until I had to wipe the tears from my eyes. I sighed.
“Alright, look, lady. I appreciate your offer, but frankly, Mrs. Franklin?” I laughed again. “Mr. Benjamin isn’t going to cut it.”
The woman’s patience was steely. I caught a chill… just before she spoke again. “How about twenty thousand of him?”
The laughter died quickly in my throat. I coughed, standing slowly. I said the first words that came to my mind.
“Bull-shit.”
She inhaled. Loudly. “Two million dollars, Mr. Reed. All cash… All yours.” She continued. “You’ll receive instructions within the next three days. I advise you to use the down payment I’m giving you wisely, Mr. Reed. You’ll need it… if you really want to get to him.”
“Him? Him who?”
She snorted softly on a quiet laugh. “Why, the guest of honor, of course.”
My head hurt from all of the confusing puzzles. I didn’t know “up” from “down.”
“Wha…? None of this makes fucking sense. How do I know that this conversation, this whole call, isn’t a line of horse shit?”
“Well, I can assure, Mr. Reed… the invitation that has just been left with your secretary is not horse shit. And neither is the briefcase at her desk with your down payment.” I got the sense that she was smiling. “Wait for my instructions, Mr. Reed. Three days…” She paused. “I’ll let you get back to your…” She took a deep breath. “Personal business.” And with that, she was gone, the line clicking softly on her end.
BUY The Investigator on Amazon
