Chapter One

February 2015

 

 

“It’s just a regular night out with the woman you love,” I muttered to myself as I sat on the lumpy mattress.

No matter how many times I said it, it still didn’t seem real. I watched her as she moved around the hotel bathroom effortlessly, brushing through her long red hair and dabbing perfume on her wrists.

Then I made the mistake of looking up and catching sight of myself in the large mirror above the desk.

Jesus Christ.

I looked like shit.

Worse than shit actually.

My hair was all over the fucking place and, at some point, I’d apparently decided to compete with the guys from Duck Dynasty with my beard.

Something was caught in it too.

I stood up and walked the four steps over to the mirror and stiffened once I realized it was remnants from the blow I’d snorted an hour ago.

Fuck me.

I hurriedly brushed the white powder from my upper lip—she’d already warned me that I was on thin ice when I showed up forty-five minutes late. The last thing I needed was for her to realize I was sampling illicit drugs in my free time. My father had been right—a little blow really helped clear your conscience, which put my perspective back where it needed to be.

Once satisfied that my face was clear, I gripped my tie unsteadily between both hands.

“C’mon, Mikey. Get your shit together,” I hissed at my swaying reflection.

She began humming from the bathroom and the vibrations went right to my cock. I looked up and caught sight of her backside as she did beauty shit to her face.

I should’ve been focused on tightening my tie, but every glimpse of her in the mirror had my eyes wandering off task. I walked over and stood in the bathroom doorway.

She caught me watching and winked, a blush rising from her chest up into her cheeks. She couldn’t hide her emotions; her pale skin would always give her away.

She was beautiful.

I should think so.

After all, she was my wife.

“Are we good to go, Slick?” She asked from across the room as she stepped into her heels and I nodded, as if really seeing her for the first time.

“Ready if you are, Cam.”

What the fuck was I doing?

I’d asked myself that same question about a hundred times since stepping off the elevator. It was the question I’d avoided answering for over a month. Nothing good would’ve come from it anyway.

What was done was done and I had to learn to live with the consequences of my actions—which I was doing. I drowned myself in a bottle of tequila and, when that didn’t do the trick, I snorted a few lines until the slate was clear.

Fuck, I was a success story here.

“You nervous?” Cam turned to me on the elevator ride down, fidgeting with her black dress.

I paused for a moment to fully take her in. Goddamn, she was beautiful—I mean, her tits weren’t anything to write home about and she acted more like one of the guys, but she was mine.

She was no Lauren…

Screw you, brain. Nobody invited you to this party.

Cam cocked her head to the side and I realized I’d never answered her question.

What was it?

Oh, right. “Nah, Darlin’. It’s dinner with you—what’s there to be nervous about?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, while giving me an odd look.

I ran a finger under my nose, certain that there was white powder resting there, mocking me. When my hand came away clean, I shrugged and asked, “Why? You feeling nervous?”

She nodded, “A bit.”

I grinned and took a step toward her. Gently, I guided her back against the wall of the elevator, before leaning down until my mouth was right next to hers. “Relax, Darlin’. It’s just dinner—me and you.”

Cam cleared her throat. “Well, and the prostitute.”

I felt like clapping my hands in glee, but settled for crushing her to my chest. Maybe this was a late birthday gift—or was it an anniversary of something? How long had we been together? “You got me a hooker? Best wife ever!”

Her brow furrowed and she frowned. “I…guess. Are you okay?”

My hands slipped down to cup her ass through the thin material of her dress and she let out a soft moan. She felt nice in my hands. Different, but nice. “You ever been fucked in an elevator, Darlin’?”

Just then, the doors opened onto the ground floor and we pulled apart reluctantly. I gave her a wink and sauntered off in search of my ‘gift.’

Cam caught up and looped her arm through mine, leading me down a long corridor and into a dimly lit bar.

My, my. Weren’t we fancy?

This hotel seemed a little too highbrow for what we were about to do, but fuck, I was pumped. “Who are we looking for, Darlin’?” I swiped my index finger absently across my gums, praying there was just enough residue left on my hands to give me a little bump. I was feeling really good right now—I didn’t want to come down right as we met our girl.

I hadn’t screwed two chicks at once in a long time. And I had a feeling this was going to be one for the record books.

Cam chose the back corner of the bar as it was deserted. It was a good choice; we didn’t need an audience. I pulled a chair out, temporarily distracted from sitting down by the glint off of my wedding band. The sight made my pulse race and I had a sudden urge to bolt from the hotel.

I needed to keep my head on straight if we were going to convince this girl to come back to our room. I stood up unsteadily. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You need one?”

She stopped scanning the bar and nodded absently. “Club soda, please.”

Club soda for the lady and a fuck ton of liquor for the gentleman.

I approached the bar and waited impatiently for the bartender to quit eye-fucking every woman that walked in.

“Hey man,” I raised my finger. “Can I get a club soda and a Campo Azul Añejo on the rocks? Oh, and I want it in a snifter. Thanks.” I turned back toward Cam without waiting for a response.

“Uh, guy?” The bartender started. “We carry Dulce Vida Añejo—it’s a Texas tequila. Will that work?”

Would that work?

Let me see. Would no tip work?

Instead of spouting off and causing a scene, I ground my teeth and nodded. “Sure. Sounds great.”

A man in a black suit walked over to the corner and joined Cam at the table. He looked like he was going to a funeral. If he laid a hand on my wife, he’d be attending his own.

I needed to hit someone. I was itching for a fight—it had been too long.

But first, hookers.

“Thank you, but I’m not sure I could do that,” Cam said softly to the man as I walked back over with the drinks.

He ran his hand down her arm. “You’re overthinking it. Do you know how much men would pay for a redhead?”

I set the club soda down so hard that it splashed over the sides. “I’d like to know.”

The man’s eyes widened. “I don’t mean to insult you, but surely you can see how beautiful your woman is—it’s not unreasonable to think that there’s a market for her.”

Cam patted my arm. “Babe, it’s fine. It’s just something to consider.” Then she looked back at the man, “Gavin, we’re really just interested in having another woman join us for now.”

Gavin nodded thoughtfully. “You know my terms.”

I took a sip of the tequila, praying the liquor would bring me back down enough to calm the rage that had been building since we made it downstairs. “I’d like to go over the terms again and see what my wife picked out. I’m not fucking anything less than a ten tonight.”

He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “That can be arranged. Now, as for the money—”

Gesturing with my glass, I asked, “Yo, Gav—what’s the going rate for more than just vanilla sex?”

Cam’s eyes widened and she discreetly pinched my thigh under the table. “Babe?” She warned.

I dropped the hand that was on her shoulder down into the V of her dress while maintaining eye contact with Gavin. “You ever just wanna spice things up, man?” My fingers dipped under the fabric and he nodded dumbly.

“Absolutely. Which is why I’m bringing in my best girl. Luciana is very well versed in many different areas,” he paused and gestured to a woman walking into the bar. My cock was hard the minute she came into view. My new friend, Gavin, had gone and gotten me a goddamn twelve.

“Hello.” She slid in across from us.

Cam dipped her head and mumbled, “Hello,” as her cheeks pinkened.

I thrust my hand out. “Hello, beautiful. You DTF?”

Luciana took my hand with a confused look on her face. “DTF?”

I ran my thumb along her knuckles. “Down to fuck, doll.”

Gavin leaned back against the booth seat. “You need to pay first. It’s five hundred for an hour of straight… ‘vanilla’ sex.”

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “Gavin, my man. You know that won’t do—I’ve got needs. How much for anal?”

Cam choked on her club soda and I reluctantly let go of Luciana’s hand to pound her on the back.

Gavin grinned, “Anal’s gonna cost you another three.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. “Alright, how about fisting? I’m talking me fisting her…her fisting my girl…them fisting each other while I watch. Where are we at now with cost?”

“Let’s say eleven hundred for an hour; whatever the hell you want as long as it doesn’t leave a mark. You think you can do that?” He regarded me carefully, while I studied Luciana.

It was obvious that she’d taken something by the way her eyes were glassed over. They were half lidded as if she’d just been woken up from a deep sleep. We’d been discussing her for the last two minutes, but it was clear that she was too far gone to notice. She wasn’t much older than eighteen—couldn’t be. Her very real tits still defied gravity.

My hard-on damn near disappeared. This wasn’t turning out to be as much fun as I’d hoped. Before I could tell Cam that I was having second thoughts, she pulled the cash from her purse and handed it over. “We’ve got a room upstairs, if that works.”

Gavin nodded and pushed Luciana from the booth. “Go. I’ll meet you outside when you’re done.”

With barely open eyes she did as she was told. “But, what about my cut?”

He slapped her ass. “You’ll get it when the nice couple here is satisfied.”

She nodded exaggeratedly and waited for us to join her. Shit, I was gonna need to rally—Cam had just spent a lot of money to get me what I wanted.

The three of us got into the elevator and as soon as the door closed, Luciana pressed her lips to the side of Cam’s head. “Want me to go down on you?” She asked in a bored tone.

Yes, I’d be up for that.

Cam shook her head and moved closer to me. “Let’s just wait until we get into the room. I don’t want us to be interrupted.”

Fucking Cam…killjoy.

We got off on our floor and Cam fished the room key from her purse before opening the door into…a lot of fucking people in police gear.

“Hands on your head!” They yelled and I instinctively brought mine up.

Oh, fuck.

I was so screwed. I was going to get hit with solicitation, at the least. If they ran a tox screen on me, then I’d be looking at possession and influence charges as well.

Goddammit.

My entire career was about to go down the shitter and it was all Lauren’s fault. So, maybe she hadn’t led my dick to hire a hooker, but she broke my goddamn heart. Surely, she had to take some responsibility for the aftermath.

The officers led a dazed Luciana out of the room and downstairs, while the others continued patting me and Cam down.

“Nice work, Detectives,” Masterson grinned. “We busted her john outside and thanks to Mike’s seemingly pointless questions, we might have enough to get the other girls off the street as well.”

This was a fucking sting operation?

Had I known that all along?

Was I even really married to Cam?

I nodded slowly as Cam pulled the wire from the inside of her dress. “Fuck, Sullivan. I thought you were gonna blow our cover when you stuck your hand down my dress. Way to make her john feel comfortable though.”

I was starting to suspect that I wasn’t married.

And I was really starting to suspect that I’d been moved from CAP to Vice.

Fuck me.

Cam gave me a breathless grin as the officers moved around the room. “We did it, Slick. You are good—even had me going there for a bit. That’s why you’re the best when it comes to undercover.”

My dick gave a painful lurch, reminding me that I’d gotten nothing in this little exchange. “What are you doing after this?”

Her smile faltered. “You mean after the paperwork? I don’t know—I’ve been living and breathing this case for the past few months. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”

“Have a drink with me. Let’s celebrate.”

Her eyes lit up at my suggestion and I wondered how many drinks it would take before she and Lauren were indistinguishable.

“Sure.”

My chest tightened and I briefly considered the possibility that I was dying.

It wouldn’t have been the worst thing.

“I’ve thought about this for so long,” I slurred against Cam’s ear. The department had rented the room for the night—it’d have been a shame to let it go to waste.

“You have? I thought you were seeing someone.” Her cheeks were pink, in spite of her words.

“It didn’t work out—I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Lie.

I’d never once seen her as anything other than a co-worker. Yet the tequila that now flowed through my veins had me convinced she was Lauren.

Or, at least, a one-night substitute.

I hadn’t been with anyone since her, but it didn’t mean shit. Ignoring the large warning signs flashing in my head, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.

She didn’t feel right—the taste of her was different…foreign. Lauren’s mouth had always fit mine perfectly and the taste of her lips—I could get drunk off of it.

I really needed my brain to shut that shit down.

I broke away from her and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the mini-bar in our suite, not taking the time to appreciate the flavor as I sucked it down.

Whiskey was David’s drink.

My dick had gone soft the minute things got hot and heavy. This shit didn’t happen to Michael Sullivan, Jr.

Cam snuck up from behind and wrapped her arms around me, letting her hands roam across my stomach.

“You okay?” She whispered, her breath hot against my skin.

I nodded.

C’mon, dick. You can do this.

Nothing.

Cam’s mouth moved across my back even as her hand slid down to cup my balls.

“Whiskey dick?” She questioned, the disappointment in her voice impossible to miss.

I pulled her hands free and turned around to face her. There was no way that I was going to be able to rally. Lauren had permanently taken up residence inside my head—throwing open the door every so often just to scream, “You killed her!”

I had, hadn’t I?

I went home to sleep and Monica died. Would she have overdosed had I stayed? It still didn’t make sense. According to the department, a glitch in the system showed that the charges had been dropped, so they released her and ruined the only fucking thing that had ever gone right for me.

Cam, having given up on me answering her, dropped to her knees on the carpet before taking me in her mouth. She could suck until her goddamn lips went numb, there was no way that I was getting hard now.

The hair fell across her eyes, almost completely shielding her face from view.

Hold up.

With her head like that, she almost looked like Lauren. It was enough to send the blood rushing back down to my cock.

She looked up at me with a grin and it was gone. Again. Not willing to play another round of up or down, I hauled Cam to her feet and threw her face down onto the mattress.

Gentlemen, put your rally caps on—we’re in the bottom of the ninth, with the bases loaded and a full count.

She wiggled her hips and I focused only on her ass as I slipped the condom on and guided my cock inside of her.

“I dreamt about this—knew you’d feel amazing,” I groaned, but I was picturing Lauren’s face. Cam was just the warm body who happened to resemble a woman who would never be mine again.

It was time to hit one out of the park and permanently erase her from memory.