Copyright © 2009, Brenda Williamson, Rayne Forrest
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

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Sample Chapter For SEXUAL DECEPTIONS Book 2: TO BED A SPY & UNDERCOVER LOVERS by Brenda Williamson & Rayne Forrest

To Bed a Spy
The city sweltered in the August heat. Shady Central Park shook under the ominous rumbling of approaching thunder. Just freakin’ great.

Rae Browning tossed the remnants of her bagged lunch in the trash and turned a dubious weather eye skyward. Dark clouds gathered to the southwest.

She wanted to walk across the original historic Brooklyn Bridge on her way home and enjoy her free afternoon. Now she’d have to take the subway home. God, she hated the claustrophobic aura of the underground subway in the summer. No sky, no breeze, just stale air, stagnant with the smell of sweat and illegal drugs.

Better to walk as far as possible, resorting to the rails if and when the rain actually fell. Not that she feared getting wet. They’d declared the rain safe again, insisting the huge skysweeping equipment developed in 2095 did its job cleaning toxins from the air. Rain no longer became polluted as it fell to earth.

Lightning streaked across the sky, followed by the sharp crack of thunder. Rae slung her tote bag over her shoulder and ran for the nearest subway portal. It didn’t matter to her if she got wet, but being fried by bolts of electricity from above, was quite another. The humidity soared in an instant as large raindrops splattered on the sidewalk. Rae ran down the steps and into the subway station with scant seconds to spare before the heavens opened in a downpour.

Jostling with several dozen others to get though the gate, she managed to slap her palm on the keypad before a large, well-built man deliberately shoved her on through.

“Hey, buddy! If that didn’t read, I’ll get a hobo rider fine!”

“Sorry, miss,” he mumbled, keeping his head down and his face turned away from her.

“Sure you are.” Rae stalked away, intent on getting to the portal security to make sure she’d been scanned in properly. He followed her, that is, until he seemed to realize her destination.

“Good riddance,” she muttered to herself as she approached the security station.

The attendant rescanned her palm print and assured her the record showed her as a legal rider. She thanked the officer and turned in time to see her train pull away without her. It didn’t matter too much. She plopped down on the nearest bench to wait for the next one. In just a few minutes, the rumble of the approaching train vibrated the bench beneath her.

Rae stood to adjust her tote, never quite managing to get it up on her shoulder again as a stranger bumped into her. She staggered and he grabbed her, spinning her around. Shock coursed through her, fast on the heels of the realization it was the same man who’d knocked her through the gate. Like any good twelfth-generation New Yorker, she swung her tote and smacked him with it.

“Get away from me, you annoying perv! You’re lucky I didn’t get fined!”

The man released her with one hand and reached into his pocket. He held out a red credit—a fifty—the amount of the hobo rider fine.

“Again, my apologies.” His smooth, mocking voice made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

Rae looked up at him. Cold, black eyes examined her. A scar across his right cheekbone gave him a sinister appearance. She shook her head.

“I don’t want your credits. I want you to never bother me again.”

“Not to worry, pretty lady. You’ve been most accommodating.” He tipped his hat and walked away, blending into the crush of people exiting the train.

Accommodating? What did he mean by that? Maybe he liked getting hit with tote bags. It didn’t matter. Rae watched him go through the turnstile and disappear up the stairs. He was gone this time and she had better get in the rail car before it left without her again.

As she turned to enter the nearest car, a lone figure moved in the shadows on the edge of her vision. Suddenly wary, she stared at the man. Whoever he was, he didn’t belong beyond the security barrier, back where only rail workers were allowed. His long, black duster was more evidence he wasn’t where he belonged.

He stood tall enough to be very noticeable in a crowd, maybe six three or six four, and lean. His golden blond hair hung silky and straight down his back to between his shoulder blades. Angry, deep-set blue eyes blazed out of the pale stillness of his face. She paused, one foot on the threshold of the car.

He moved suddenly, springing over the barrier with the grace of some great cat, crossed the distance to the car, and headed straight for her in long, purposeful strides. Rae’s heart leaped into her throat.

She darted into the subway car and raced out the other side just as he entered the car. Rae timed it perfectly, and the doors closed between them. His angry gaze locked with hers, his lips pressed tightly together in a thin, tight line. Rae took a step back as the train lurched forward. He slammed his palm against the window.

To her enormous surprise, he smiled ruefully showing even, white teeth that had surely cost him a lot to get so perfect, and nodded to her as the train pulled away with him in it.
Rae bolted up the portal steps and ran out of the station. She kept running through the rain until she made it to her apartment, and safety, vowing to avoid the subway for at least a week. The people in the city grew weirder with every passing week. Thank the heavens she stayed in good condition or that run would have given her a heart attack.

She dropped her tote bag on the dining room table and tipped it over, dumping the contents. Cleaning it out was a daily ritual, made necessary by the bad habit of throwing everything from receipts to change to small purchases in it without any organization. Who had time for all that during the day? For sure, not her.

Tea. She needed some hot tea. She dripped water from her wild dash through the rain and the air conditioning chilled her. Well, that and the whole weird experience at the subway. What the heck was that all about, anyway? She plopped the teabag in hot water and let it sit on the counter to brew while she got into some dry clothes.

Finally more comfortable, Rae carried her tea to the table to reorganize her bag. She gave the tote a final shake and the red chip fell out. Damn him! She told him she didn’t want that. Well, she had it and she couldn’t afford to throw it in the trash. Picking it up to put in her wallet she realized it wasn’t a credit chip, but some sort of glass coin, valuable simply because of what it was. She’d not seen a real, honest-to-goodness coin since she’d been a little girl, twenty-five years ago, and never a red one.

Why in the world had he dropped that in her tote?

Unless it was stolen.

Unless it was a forgery.

Unless it wasn’t a coin but a tracking device.

“Stop it right now, Browning!” she told herself aloud. This wasn’t a digiflick come to life and she wasn’t a fearless super sleuth out to save the world from evil. She’d do the sensible thing and look it up on the infoNet. If it were stolen, she’d turn it into the authorities. Simple.

A new little voice whispered to her that nothing about the whole caper was simple. She closed her eyes and wished it away.

True, her fantasy life beat her real life, hands down and going away, but this was just too weird for even her imagination.

Ninety minutes later, she wasn’t so sure about that. Her infoNet search turned up nothing. Zero. Zippo. Rae wasn’t about to give up, though. Sooner or later, she’d figure it out. She dropped the coin into her jewelry box for safekeeping and willed herself to forget about it, and the incident at the subway.

She had a new murder mystery novel to read and everything else could wait.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the stranger sidling up behind her on the next barstool. Unusually handsome, he had a nice smile but bad timing. Keeping her focus on her objective—the man she practically stalked everywhere in the city, she ignored the guy.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

Jenova took a deep breath. It wasn’t easy being a spy for the government. The level of complexity to close this particular case was especially difficult. Details too obscure and a man hard to trail. Having to deal with a man hitting on her was too much.

“Yes, and it’s by choice,” she growled.

She resisted the urge to swing around and knock him off his seat when he touched her.
“That’s a lonely preference.” His finger slithered downward, following the path of her spine.
Jenova shivered involuntarily.

“Exactly.” She kept her attention on the man across the room. The government bureau she worked for assigned Enrique Damri to her as a suspect in white slavery linked to the modeling industry. She didn’t believe it possible until she studied the file on the missing women last seen by Damri’s Modeling Agency.

“I can change that,” the sultry masculine voice announced.

Jenova spun to face the man pestering her. “I’d like to be alone. Now would you mind going away?”

She couldn’t blow her cover as a photographer. The job had been tricky to secure. As an amateur picture taker, she didn’t have any verifiable credentials. However, what the Bureau made up, worked.

“No one likes to be alone.”

“Is that so?” She stared into his hypnotizing brown eyes, finding it hard to look away.

“Name’s Derex. What’s yours?” Somehow, his fingers managed to stay connected to her—along her side where he stroked lightly, almost tickling her into laughing.

“None of your business.” She forced herself to look back at Damri.

He was on the move.

“Come on, sweetness.”

“Go away.” She leaned to the side to see past him.

The slow glide of his touch left a warm tingling path up her arm. She reached to push him away, to stop the exciting sensation from distracting her from her job. Instead, she slipped her hand behind his head, grasped a fistful of his soft, dark hair, and pulled him forward.

Damri had been eyeing her since she came into the club. Derex gave her the perfect reason for being alone up until that point. Damri would have to view her as just someone who had been waiting for her date if she gave him a good show to believe that theory. Pressing her mouth to Derex’s made a perfect arrangement for the circumstances.

She kept her gaze aimed over Derex’s shoulder, toward her objective. Damri finally sat, showing interest in another woman sitting alone. Jenova relaxed and let her concentration stray to the man taking command of her mouth.

Derex deepened the kiss and she melted into the heat of his lips stirring over hers. His tongue probed for entry, thrusting against her resolve to stop. Instinct demanded she back out of the arms surrounding her. She tried pushing at his shoulder, but he held tighter with his passion more than his strength. And what lovely power he governed in those thick biceps. Taut muscles that didn’t show beneath his sleeves, flexed and rolled along her outer arms as he continued claiming her. His lips lay siege, persuading her to focus on a monetary foray into her fantasy world.

Jenova went willingly.

She envisioned Derex’s succulent lips quivering over her nether region, probing her ache and pulling at her throbbing center. Between the nibbling and tongue flicking over her lips, he displayed the skills needed to give her a glorious orgasm.

His moan broke her out of the delusion and she made an effort to gasp for air and regain strength to break free. She pushed against his sides and took one deep breath to chase away the light-headedness she experienced. His diligence overpowered her feeble attempt, and she lost the battle. Dreaming of a man wasn’t quite like having one, rock hard and willing within her clutches. She clung to him, letting him whisk her mind and body into paradise.

His tongue plunged inside her mouth and circled hers. Like his traveling hands, the caressing moves sparked tingling sensations that ran amok through her. She wanted to forget work and enjoy it. Unfortunately, her glimpse at Damri showed her he was walking out the door of the nightclub.

“I think that was enough of an introduction, don’t you?” She shoved Derex back and hopped off the stool.

“Brief, but I suppose it’ll suffice…for now.” He followed her.

Jenova crossed the room and pulled the exit door open. She peered outside, searching for Damri or a hint of the man who had tailed her to the club.

No one.

“Damn,” she grumbled.

“What’s wrong?” Derex remained a fixture behind her.

“I’m late.” She increased her pace, and then spotted Damri across the street.

“Then I’ll give you a lift.”

Damri stared in her direction. She needed to appear occupied. Derex became her handy prop again and she seized the front of his crisp linen shirt. The barstool had placed her at eye level with him and she discovered he towered over her more than she had suspected.

“Kiss me,” she instructed.

A quirky, triumphant smile turned the corners of Derex’s mouth upward. She thought he might question her indecisive ways and met with an almost too eager compliance.

His warm hand cupped the side of her face and his other arm circled her back. Gentle with his guidance, he pulled her mouth to his. He saw to fitting every part of her against his firm torso. Once she was close, he brushed her lips lightly.

“How’s that?” He lifted his head.

“You did better in the club,” she mumbled the complaint.

She looked to the left, to the right, and rose on her toes, glancing over Derex’s shoulder. The area appeared clear for her to go, except Derex’s mouth descended on hers again. He took control of her with his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her head.

Deprived of male attention for a long time, she hungered for something more than what her fantasies gave her. She needed sex, and instead of fighting his dominance, she welcomed a moment to relax under his attentive care.

His kiss turned into sexual foreplay. “We could go to my place.” His roaming touch made a strong case for taking their indulgence private.

“I can’t.” No sooner had she declined than she needed to change her mind.

Damri hadn’t left. He waited in his aircar, his focus aimed in her direction. Unable to take the chance he suspected she followed him, she had to be the first to leave.

“All right.” She looked up at Derex.

“That’s my aircar across the street.” He pointed to a small sporty blue vehicle that appeared to hover close to the pavement rather than rest on its parking legs.

Jenova started for it. A revving engine made her turn and look toward Damri. The sound grew louder, not from his aircar but another. She spun in the right direction and saw the racing aircar aimed for her. Shock immobilized every muscle in her body. It took force to move her and when Derex plowed into her, she went flying to the ground.

Her hands took the brunt of her collision with the rough surface.

“Damn,” she shrieked.

A painful grunt from Derex cut off her other expletives. He lay several feet away. The thumps and bangs she’d heard when she crashed to the pavement registered as Derex’s body connecting with the metal vehicle.

“Oh, God, are you all right?” She crawled to him.

With his eyes squeezed shut and his face in an agonizing grimace, he didn’t look good. His handsome features were distorted enough to make her wince.

“Talk to me,” she demanded.

Glancing around, she looked for help. The street was deserted. Anyone who may have been near, disappeared the moment there was trouble. It was the way of their society. No one got involved.

“Derex?” She caressed the side of his face. “Hold on. I’ll get help.”

“No.” He grabbed her wrist, preventing her from turning on her communicational earpiece. “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“You could have internal injuries.”

“It’s my shoulder. I jumped on the hood of the aircar and rolled off.” He struggled to sit. “I didn’t land well with the pavement, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t move.” She took the arm he leaned on and helped him up. “Let me take you to a medical unit.”

“I’m okay.” He hobbled to his aircar and opened the door. “Get in.”

Jenova stood back and pointed at the opening. “You get in. I’m driving you home.”
“Only if you tell me your name.”

“Jenova. Now get in.” She looked down the road for Damri. He was gone. It made her wonder if he had seen the accident or if he was the cause of the hit and run.

She hurried around and got in behind the control panel. “Which way do you live?” She pushed the start button, grabbed the joystick, and thrust the car in forward.

“Take Mulburt for two blocks and…”

Derex gave directions, but after she pulled from the curb, her concentration returned to Damri. Where had he gone? When had he left? In answer, he floated out from a side street and hovered close behind. Did he intend for her to know he watched her?

She had to shake off Damri’s suspicions, yet she also had to do something about Derex. He risked his life for her without even knowing why.

“What were those directions again?” She stared into the rearview mirror.

“Turn right in there.”

Jenova steered the aircar into an underground garage. Damri didn’t follow. “That’s something,” she muttered.

“What?” Derex looked at her.

“Nothing. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

Her body pounded from the adrenaline rush. She had escaped death, and celebrating life made her think harder about the choices she’d made with men. There hadn’t been many, but they had been an indiscriminant variety of losers. Did she really need to add another notch to her bedpost?

Damri needed to be her main concern. She’d really screwed up following him this time. Still, at midnight, she’d start her pretend job as a photographer and get a better chance of learning more about him. Her first photo shoot was at the club and she’d have two Damri Modeling Agency’s models for two whole hours. She’d get more information about Damri’s business from talking to them than she had from following him.

The parking garage circled one level to the next.

“Down at the end,” Derex told her.

She glanced over at him and met his hungry gaze. Did he really think she’d have sex with him? They’d just met. There were examinations to take for health reasons. Compatibility tests for daily tranquility. Had she ever done anything personal without following protocol? Yes.

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