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When a serial rapist and murderer targets women on an online dating website, FBI Agent Leslie Hunter must pose as a potential match at a bar. How hard could it be? She's been dating online for years.
While undercover, Leslie meets a handsome gentleman. She can't tell Kevin her profession without ruining the investigation. How long can she keep this man out of danger without revealing she's an FBI Agent?
A taste of pole dancing, phone sex, and spankings combined with a lick of danger. A romantic erotica story that's sure to leave your heart racing and pleased afterwards.
Some people join the FBI because they want to change the world and make a difference. Me? I joined because I like kicking ass. I love the feel of my metal service weapon in the palm of my hand. The recoil of it as I pull the trigger and disarm a suspect.
My name is Leslie Hunter. I work in the Violent Crimes and Major Thefts unit. The thrill of power is exhilarating. That’s what drew me into the field. What has kept me here? My love of the job.
Coming into work, I drop my briefcase on my desk and head immediately for the break room, mug in hand. A girl needs coffee to survive. It’s a must.
“Swear to me, Rick. You won’t say a word!” Kaitlyn’s voice hisses like a snake about to attack its prey.
I pause, inwardly contemplating if I should enter and disrupt the threats or listen for more juicy details. I opt to walk in. “Won’t say a word about what?” This could definitely get interesting.
“Nothing.” Kaitlyn sneers at me. It’s her warning for me to shut up and back down. Do I listen?
I shrug and smile, taking my mug to the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup. “It’s not like I don’t already know the gossip around here.”
“Where is everyone?”
I hear Joel’s voice through the break room and assume he’s in the bullpen, noticing it’s almost empty, except for Cole. That boy has no friends.
“We’re grabbing coffee!” I shout, dumping three sugars into my cup before carrying the steaming hot liquid back to my desk. “New case?” There is always a new case, crime knows no time.
“A serial rapist and murderer is targeting women on an online dating website,” Joel says as he hands out files to each of us. “Last night, Magdalene Rochester was supposed to meet a gentleman she’d been conversing with online. The date was scheduled for a public place. Her date of course never showed because our suspect was targeting her. Knowing what she looked like, he followed her home, forced himself inside her apartment where he raped and killed her. We have his profile online but the account was linked to a bogus credit card, and the IP address is from a coffee shop across town. Our job is to discover who this guy is and put him behind bars.”
I let out an exhaustive sigh. “Joel, what website are we talking about?” I feel the bubbles tumbling in my stomach already. I’ve been dating online for the past six months. It’s the only way to meet other single men outside of the office.
Joel opens the file in his hands and glances briefly through the information. “Perfect Catch.”
I know that website, very well. A little too well. I keep my mouth shut, debating on whether I should tell Joel in private that I already have a profile or just ride it out.
“Leslie, we’re going to create a profile that targets our suspect with what he’s looking for in a woman. We’re going to let him contact you, ask you out, and then set up a sting to get this bastard.”
Shit. So much for keeping it to myself. My complexion pales and I feel a thin sheen of sweat on my brow. I don’t hear the rest of what Joel says to the group. How could I? He walks back into his office, and I have no other choice but to confess about my dating profile. Why? It would put us at risk having two profiles online for me.
I swallow my pride and knock on his door. Joel hasn’t even sat down yet. “Can I talk to you?” I ask.
“Of course, come in.” Joel gestures me further into the office.
I shut the door behind me. No one else needs to hear this. Maybe other people aren’t embarrassed by finding dates online, but I’m not proud of it.
Joel glances at the desk and brushes the papers to the side, appearing to be busy, but it looks like he’s just trying to keep himself preoccupied. “What do you need, Leslie?”
“About that website,” I say and shift uncomfortably on my feet.
“Yes?” Joel looks up from the pages and stares at me.
I feel his blue eyes examining me, trying to determine what I’m thinking or about to say. It’s now or never. I let out a breath and the words spill out far too quickly. “I’m already on Perfect Catch. I can’t have two profiles, Joel. We’re going to need to change my current profile for this case.”
Joel stares at me, trying to comprehend what I just said.
“Do you need me to provide you my password?” I ask, knowing that usually a tech agent would create the website using our profiling information.
Joel nods slowly. “Yeah, why don’t you write that down?” He pushes a piece of blank paper and a pen toward me on his desk.
I scribble down my password and place the pen on the desk before walking out of Joel’s office.
* * * * *
It doesn’t take long for me to land a date with our prime suspect. Of course the image he’s provided me is of a blond man that is tall, muscular, and has a great smile. It’s probably from someone else’s profile on social media.
“You’re going in this evening at seven,” Joel says, glancing me over. I’m in a black pants suit, and white blouse, typical bureau attire. “You’ll need to change before the date.”
“I got it handled.” I’ve been on enough first dates to know what the standard attire ought to be. Something tells me if it were up to Joel, he’d probably suggest a dress or fancy skirt. That’s not what people wear when they first meet. I’ll wear a dress, but only if the occasion calls for it. This isn’t one of those dates.
I’m home for ten minutes max, and slip into a new pair of jeans and a gray and pink striped t-shirt before heading over to the Kitty Kats, a bar in mid-town. I’ve made it clear to Joel that in order to look the part, I have to dress how a woman would actually dress on a first date for meeting someone online. I half-wonder if he’s going to call Kaitlyn in for a second opinion, but he obliges.
I bring a clutch with me, containing my phone, wallet, and a few dollars cash. My gun is secured at my ankle. It’s not the best place but it’s the most inconspicuous. Besides, this guy isn’t likely to approach me at the bar. I know how he works. I’ve seen the report of the seven murdered women. The good news is, I’m not them. I won’t be going home after my date stands me up at the bar. At least, not to my home.
Wearing purple clogs, I head inside the bar and have a look around. The place is pretty crowded and it’s not how I remember it. Tonight is female dancer night. It’s evident by the four women dancing on the bar in bikinis and high heels. I let my gaze linger, longer than necessary. Work or not, I might as well have fun.
I walk over to the bar and grab a seat, leaning forward for the bartender. “Just a coke.” I can’t drink while on duty. Getting just a tiny bit hazy tonight could be the difference between life and death. I slide my card to the bartender, letting him keep an open tab.
My eyes skirt the bar. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. A couple making out in a booth, another couple holding hands. At the opposite end of the bar, a handsome gentleman with brown hair and a recent tan is sitting all alone, nursing his drink. He’s eye candy with his thick biceps and dimpled smile. He’s in black slacks and a dark blue button down top. If I wasn’t on duty and waiting for a potential rapist, I’d go talk to him. Maybe I should anyhow? Just to be certain he’s not the killer.
The bartender delivers my drink and I take it, standing up and walking over toward the gentleman. At least he’s not a federal agent. It’s rare that I get out and meet other men. Where would I meet them besides work? Which consists of either criminals or suspects? Not a good situation, trust me.
“Hi. Is this seat taken?” I ask, grabbing the stool beside him and I sit down.
“Oh. It’s all yours.” His green eyes twinkle and he smiles back, sipping his beer.
“Are you meeting someone?” I ask him.
“Kind of,” he says and laughs nervously. “I’ve been going online, meeting women and it’s been a disaster. The last woman I contacted, I should have known better. Her photo looked genuine but there was something striking about her. Turns out it wasn’t her. Last minute I showed a friend her profile and he recognized her from a porn website.”
“No way.” My mouth drops, shocked.
“I wish I were joking. He showed me a website where you can search using the photograph of the girl. Five results came up. One website contained forty-one photos of this girl and tons were nude. The same pictures she had been sending me were on that website for years! It’s sickening. Dating online has become such a joke. Honestly, I showed up tonight hoping to find a real woman. Not someone hiding behind a computer screen. I guess you can say I don’t have a date scheduled, but I was hoping someone might feel the same way.”
I do understand, but this damn case is the only thing keeping me from making a further connection with this man. I glance around the bar. I don’t see anyone that looks suspicious. I eye my watch. He’s either late or he’s hanging around a group of other men, blending in to the surroundings. Why not give this gentleman the time of day? I don’t have to take him home. In fact, I know I won’t in order to protect him.
“I’m Leslie,” I say and hold out my hand introducing myself. It’s okay to use my first name, there’s no crime in it. Besides, I won’t reveal what I do. “Believe me, dating online sucks. I have so many stories I could tell you, they’re all ridiculous and worse is they’re true.”
He laughs and shakes my hand. “I’m Kevin, and I bet I can have you beat by my stories.” He takes a gulp of his beer and slaps his hand on the bar. “Worst text message from a potential match?”
I pause thinking it over. “Definitely this guy Marcus. We were texting each other, and he asks me to call him so I do. We talk for an hour. It was tough to get him off the phone. When I did, he asked if I’d text him later. I should have seen the signs. Four days later, we’re texting back and forth and out of the blue he asks me if I’m not that into him. It’s not like I was ignoring him. I wrote to him every single day. The kicker, I hadn’t even met the guy yet. Talk about needy!”
Kevin laughs. “That’s pretty bad. Stalker vibe too, I bet.”
“Yeah, it could have gone there.” I feel at ease talking to Kevin. “What about you? Worst date?”
Kevin pauses and thinks it over. “Probably the one with Nancy. She was great. Rocking hot body, super smart, we hit it off really well. On our second date, she got food poisoning and vomited on my shoes in the parking lot after an amazing goodnight kiss. Needless to say, I didn’t call her again and haven’t heard from her. Honestly, I don’t want to. Maybe that makes me a bad person but it was gross!”
Laughing under my breath, I can’t hide the smile even if I wanted to. “That is disgusting!”
“I know!” Kevin says. “We’re not all bad dates. It’s just the few out there that give us a bad reputation.”
I grin and say, “Like the ones that bring a trailer with all their belongings after a second date?”
Kevin’s eyes widen. “Please tell me that isn’t true!”
“So, tell me about you. What breaks you out of the mold?” I ask.
“I’m an artist. I draw comics for a living. Which probably spells geek to you, but I swear I’m not. Sometimes they’re political comics if the newspaper accepts. Other times I’ll draw whatever I can whether it’s for birthday parties, tattoo requests, anything.”
“Anything?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Even dirty pictures?”
“Sure. On occasion I’ve been asked to commission a few nude comics for an indie x-rated event. Those are the most fun and usually hilarious,” Kevin says. “What about you? What do you do?” He glances me over, as if looking at my clothes gives an indication of my day job. He has no idea and if I weren’t undercover, I could tell him.
“Hey sexy.” I hear Kaitlyn’s voice and my eyes widen glancing up, as the dancers are once again on the bar.
“Kai?” I can’t stop myself from calling her by name. I’ve always seen the dark-haired agent in a pants suit, one rare occasion a skirt. This is something else entirely.
Kevin removes his drink from the bar. “You know the dancer?”
Kaitlyn is up there wearing nothing more than a red g-string bikini. Her brunette locks cascade down her back and her makeup looks like a hooker must have put it on her. She’s got thick turquoise eyeliner and lime green glittery eye shadow.
“Long story. We used to work together.” It’s not a lie but in the way Kevin’s mind is ticking, he must think I had been an exotic dancer. Not the case! Though, what harm could come from him believing it to be true? It is safer for everyone, than Kevin knowing I’m working undercover.
Kevin laughs and his cheeks redden. I’m guessing it’s the beer. He’s looking over Kaitlyn a little too intimately and long for my pleasure.
“Quite a story, I bet,” Kevin says. “Maybe you can share it on our second date?”
Kaitlyn slams her heels against the bar as she dances in time to the music. At the end of the bar, there’s a platform and a pole, just a few feet from where we’re sitting. Kai struts across the bar, gyrating to the music before throwing one leg around the pole. My eyes widen, still shocked that my colleague is here. She’s attractive but I’ve never looked at her in that way before. I thought Kaitlyn and Joel would be waiting outside to follow me back to the location agreed upon. Did they get bored? When did the plan change?
I finish the last of my soda and don’t bother ordering another drink. Shifting around on the stool, my eyes land on Joel. He’s sitting at a table a few feet from the stage, jacket hung behind him on the chair. He pulls out a wad of one dollar bills and leans forward as Kai allows him to shove the bill into her g-string.
Why is Joel here? It’s obvious, his eyes and attention is on Kaitlyn. Are they sleeping together? I watch as she gyrates and slides up and down the pole, her eyes on Joel the entire time. If they’re not fucking, they will be soon. The heat between them is pulsating like a star about to explode.
It feels as though the room is a thousand degrees hotter. I’m ready to strip out of my own clothes but I can’t. I’m not a dancer and this isn’t my show. “I need to go.” I smile politely at Kevin. Is it wrong for me to feel so aroused looking at Kaitlyn? Every male in the bar is staring at her. She’s definitely hot.
“Can I get your number? I want to see you again,” Kevin asks.
I want to give it but I shouldn’t. Not while I’m working undercover. I grab a napkin off the bar and Kevin hands me a pen. I scribble my phone number on the paper and hand it over. “I work, a lot, but I promise to return your call when I can.” I give him a quick hug goodbye. It’s all I can offer without ruining the night and the undercover operation.
I head out of the bar, keeping a watchful eye behind me as I get into my car.
Three men head outside the moment I leave and walk to their car. Could one of them be the suspect? I lock the door and pull out of the parking lot. In the distance I see a set of headlights follow me. I know Cole and Rick are waiting at the intended location. Joel and Kaitlyn should be following shortly, if they weren’t too distracted at the bar.