Damaged Goods Read online

  “You can if my commander signs off on it. You’re perfect for the job, Sylv. I was already racking my brain trying to choose someone to go undercover for me. When I heard you had been brought in? Well,” he smiled again, this time showing off every pearly white as if Sylvia had never seen good teeth before, “it felt like fate.”

  “You’re full of shit, but okay.”

  Joseph pointed to the paper. “Do you know Alexander Sheen?”

  Sylvia glanced at the words in front of her. They didn’t mean anything. Nor did the blurry black and white picture of some well-bred fucker in a well-made suit. “I’ve heard of him. Some big investor with a shipping company. What about him?”

  Every time those muscular arms moved across the table, Sylvia swore she saw veins popping up and down. God. Right in my weak spot. Over the months she had forgotten how damn good looking this man was. Cops. They had some of the best bodies. That should’ve tipped her off the few times they had dirty sex as members of some psychopath’s BDSM club.

  “To be blunt, we think he’s involved in human trafficking. Particularly out of the PNW.”

  Sylvia rustled in her seat. “That’s disturbing.”

  “No kidding. He’s got a bunch of business coming up here in Portland. We’re launching a full undercover investigation, but he’ll recognize most of us from our last investigation. You know, the one that made worldwide news.”

  “I doubt you’re his type anyway.” Unless this Mr. Sheen was gay, she supposed. “Where do I come in?”

  “We have set up a fake escort service. Our insiders tell us that’s how he gets his first girlfriends in every city around the world. As it so happens, Mr. Sheen will be directed to use our fake service for his needs, and our madam – who is an agent, of course – will suggest you be his girlfriend of the month. Once you have access to him, you’ll gather all the intelligence possible about his supposed exploits until we have enough evidence to take him down.”

  “Would I get to wear a wire?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Sweet.” Not that Sylvia was actually considering this. Going undercover to gather intelligence on some alleged human trafficker? And probably having sex with him? Sounded like suicide. “Why me? You could bring in a cop that nobody recognizes from anywhere in the country. Yet you want me to believe that you came running down here the moment you heard I had been arrested? Smells like bullshit.”

  “It’s unconventional, sure, and I don’t doubt that my superiors will want me to do as you suggested. But I’d rather have someone who knows what she’s doing.”

  Sylvia rolled her eyes. “I bet. Wouldn’t want to have one of your pure and clean officers have to get her pussy dirty.”

  Joseph’s expression remained unchanging. “I can assure you that undercover officers are willing to do whatever it takes to finish their mission.”

  “Even fucking their mark?”

  “Yes, Sylv, even fucking their mark.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned in closer to him, eyebrows traveling up her brow in curiosity. “Is that what you were doing when you fucked my brains out when you were undercover? Doing your job? Doing whatever it took to get to Crow? Following the sick rules of his perverted club so you’d look like another member of the gang?” Snorting, she sat back again. “Here I thought we genuinely had a good time.” Or at least she didn’t recall Joseph being unable to get it up and fuck her until they both almost fell out of the bed. “You like breaking girls’ hearts, baby?”

  He never once broke eye contact with her. Nor did he flinch when she brought up their sexual history. The only thing Joseph Montoya did was allow a simper of amusement flirt with his cheekbones. Fuck me. I remember kissing those lips. What was supposed to be a simple late-night swing between “established” couples had turned into a damn good fuckfest. The only thing that ruined the evening was when Sebastian called her a whore afterward. I didn’t let it get to me… because if I let every man who called me a whore get to me, I wouldn’t have much of a soul left. Her possession of one was debatable, anyway, and it had nothing to do with her profession.

  “The idea that I could possibly break your heart is ridiculous.”

  Sylvia frowned. “So what do I get out of it? In exchange for endangering my life, anyway. I have a feeling you’re not allowed to pay me. Anything he pays that supposed escort service is going right into evidence.”

  “Yes.” Joseph eased back, arms crossing on top of his folders. “We won’t be paying you, but I will offer to have your record cleared.”

  “I was already given immunity after I agreed to testify against Crow.” Those feds were hard-up for witnesses if they offered her immunity. That was the last time she saw Joseph, too. She hadn’t been around to watch him testify as Agent Montoya, undercover agent, but he had sat in the audience while she got on the stand and talked about Xavier Crow’s nasty sex club. “He would make us swing with other couples in order to stay in the club. You stayed in the club because you were either afraid of him… or he offered your boyfriend so many good business connections that you were afraid to refuse.” She had glanced at Joseph more than once during that time, unable to believe that she had fucked a damned cop. Bastard came in me and everything. Well, they had used a condom, but Sylvia had been so into it that she swore she felt every little bit of it.

  Now would’ve been a really bad time to shudder.

  “It’s a good deal, Sylv,” he said softly. “You shouldn’t be in any immediate danger, but in case, we’ll train you in self-defense.”

  “Oh, I feel better already.”

  “I’m serious. Think about it.” Joseph slid a card across the table. “Call me if you decide you want to do it. We need to get the ball rolling by the end of next week.”

  Sylvia pushed the card back toward him. “Don’t think so. I’d rather deal with the charges.”

  Joseph sucked in both cheeks. Don’t give me that look. Sylvia hated it when men looked at her like that. As if she were too dumb for her own good. “Take it anyway.” The card slid back toward her. “In case you change your mind.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He sighed. “Is this about what happened between us?”

  “Oh, good!” Sylvia planted both of her hands on the table. “You remember me!”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Sylvia glanced around the interview room until she found the camera. Now, was there someone on the other side of the window? Didn’t matter. “We fucked!” she shouted at the camera. “Twice! Two separate occasions.” She held up two fingers in case the person watching didn’t get the point.

  “Lovely,” Joseph muttered. “They’re never gonna let me live that one down.”

  “That’s what you get for fucking a woman under false pretenses.”

  “False… what are you talking about?”

  “I had no idea you were a cop!”

  “That was the point. I was undercover.”

  “And having a ton of fun, huh?”

  Aw, he was trying to give her the cop glare. He wasn’t good at it, though. None of the Portland cops were good at it. They either looked lazy or too babyish to take seriously. “I didn’t have as much fun as you might think.”

  Sylvia cocked her head. “I was a highlight, though, hm?”

  He didn’t answer that.

  “Can I go now? I’m pretty sure I’m due in a holding cell for the night.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ve already cleared your charge. Consider it a freebie.”

  “I know all about freebies.” Sylvia stood up, ignoring the card on the table. “And I know you don’t have that kind of power.”

  He held her gaze. What is it with him and making me feel like melted ice cream inside? That was the only way to explain the way he looked at her. Fucking alpha men. All cops are alike in that regard. Every man who joined Crow’s nest of kinksters was pegged as an alpha male. Yes, even the male FBI agent who turned out to be gay enough to have a husba
nd. Didn’t stop him from being an alpha type.

  “Think you might be surprised what kind of power I can muster up around here.”

  “Oh, right.” Sylvia grinned at him. “Your mommy’s the commander.”

  “Indeed she is. Comes in handy sometimes.”

  “Yay nepotism.”

  “Trust me. A lot of this is my own merit.”

  “I’m sure it is. Now can I go? Thanks for bailing me out, I guess. Tell your friend he’s a dick for trapping me like that.”

  “Last I checked you were the one engaging in solicitation to begin with.”

  “As long as you don’t ask for a freebie in return for yours.” Sylvia snorted. “I’ve got a business to run. Come on, man, you’re not even going to pay me for being your rat? How am I supposed to eat? I’d have to still work on the side.”

  “I would make sure you’re taken care of.”

  He said that so softly that at first Sylvia fell for it: that tender tone that lured her down more than one bad hallway. Fuck off, Maxwell Carlisle. He was the start of her downfall. Sebastian merely took a vulnerable girl and broke her down some more.

  She wouldn’t fall for it again. Especially not with a cop who had no problem screwing her when he was on the job. She didn’t care what he offered her in return. Don’t think about how rich he is. Everyone related to Crow’s case knew that Joseph Montoya was the son of the commander of these investigative forces and a Mexican multimillionaire. I hear the Montoyas are worth over a billion dollars. So what was Joseph doing working like this? Shouldn’t he have been taking over his father’s company, and not pursuing his mother’s legacy?

  Nah. Not worth pondering.

  He showed her out of the interview room, always two inches behind her no matter how quickly she moved. When his arm caught the door so she could get out, she was treated to the flex of his muscles beneath that almost sheer white shirt. Damnit. Sylvia had not asked for this bullshit. The last thing she needed was to keep being sexually attracted to this asshole.

  Even though he smelled good. And looked good. And sounded good. And always smiled at her as if he actually cared about where she went that night.

  It was all a lie. It was always a lie with men.

  Bitter, Sylvia marched forward, heading for the front desk in the hopes that Joseph hadn’t lied to her.

  He hadn’t. The station let her go, but not without a stern warning to not be caught soliciting again.

  “Sylvia,” Joseph said at the main entrance. He wasn’t going to give this up, was he? “I know that was a lot to digest. But, please.” He took her hand and slapped his card into it. “Think about it. Let’s help each other out.”

  Funny thing, that. The only way Joseph could truly help her out was by making sure every cop left her alone. Forever. I have a feeling that’s never going to happen.

  “Yeah. Sure. I’ll think about.” Sylvia stepped out onto the sidewalk. She didn’t look over her shoulder until she reached the end of the block, and when she did, all she saw were those white rolled up sleeves glistening in the streetlamp light.

  She hurried home after that, pitching his business card into the first trash can she saw.

  Chapter 3

  Joseph

  Midnight was a terrible time to arrive home. It was an even more terrible time when a man considered he had to be back at the office by nine in the morning.

  Yet those were the kinds of hours Joseph put into his job when arranging one of the biggest undercover operations his department had ever seen. Bigger than my last one, even. He sighed every time he thought about it.

  The key warily entered the lock to his front door. His high-rise apartment overlooking the Willamette River came at a premium, but he didn’t care how much it cost when he got to come home to this serene abode. Not only did the floor-to-ceiling windows offer one of the best residential views in the city, but the warm woods of the floors and most of the furnishings gave the place a rustic lethargy befitting a forested state like Oregon. Joseph made a habit of purchasing locally made furnishings made from also locally-sourced wood. He was pretty sure only the kitchen cabinets came from out of state. Possibly Canada.

  He pulled out his phone and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. Let’s see… beer, shower, bed. With any luck, he wouldn’t think of the bullshit he was returning to the next day.

  Joseph played his backlog of voicemails while he rummaged for a bottle of beer and wondered if it was worth turning on the TV when he was only going to turn it off again. The news was a shitshow, anyway, and all of his favorite shows were off for the summer. His best bet would be catching twenty minutes of a skin flick on one of the pay channels.

  Joseph sighed as he leaned against his fridge and popped the lid off his beer. I’m running out. Gonna have to call that lady to shop for me again. Long hours, let alone when an investigation was building up, meant Joseph had no time to take care of his place or buy his own damn groceries. Luckily, he had more than one person willing to pick up bags of supplies or clean his kitchen counters for him. For a price, of course.

  “Oi, hermano, dónde estás?” The sweet sounds of nineteen-year-old Reina, Joseph’s half-sister on his father’s side, made him feel more at ease when she came on his voicemail. She didn’t bullshit him with English, either. Although at midnight, after working for over twelve hours, Joseph could barely understand the Spanish his sister natively spoke. Unlike him, the fake. “We haven’t talked in so long. I know you’re busy with work, but I’m going to college in a couple of months and won’t see you much. Estás bien? Talk to you later.”

  “Joseph.”

  He almost choked on his beer.

  “Call me when you get the chance,” his ex-girlfriend Angelica said. “It’s about Stella. She’s snooping around again. Thanks.”

  Joseph turned off his phone and placed his half-empty bottle of beer on the counter. Tired fingers fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, his equally tired feet leading him to the bathroom. Stella, huh? When was his other ex-girlfriend not causing trouble for everyone in Portland?

  It was supposed to be simple. When Joseph went undercover in Xavier Crow’s circle of sex fiends, he had to have a girlfriend to get in. Stella Moore was an up and coming agent who had conveniently forgotten to mention her thirst for fame and fortune when she was investigating alongside Joseph – or groaning in orgasm beneath him, whatever.

  Supposed to be simple. Not the first agent Joseph had hooked up with (and the fact Crow’s club commanded they have public sex together helped,) but she was the first one he kinda-sorta fell in love with. They had talked about moving in together after the investigation was over, but Xavier Crow was barely in handcuffs when Stella turned around and started selling the story to the press in exchange for millions of dollars. She even refused to testify at Crow’s trial after leaving her job and getting snatched up for a tell-all book deal. Joseph dreaded how he was going to be painted. The press had already dressed him as Commander Stone’s Little Baby Boy, and for several weeks he was a bigger laughing stock than usual at the office.

  This new investigation, recently signed off by his mother the commander, was going to be the turning point of his career… like what going undercover before was supposed to have done. Now if I strike out three times, I’ll know it’s time to retire early and start an exciting new career as a barista.

  The shower water massaged his skin as he soaped up and rubbed the top of his head. Before the mirror hanging beneath the faucet fogged up, Joseph checked his facial hair already growing in like crazy. There wasn’t time to shave that morning. He’d be lucky to have time when he got up. Unfortunately for him, there was a strict facial hair code in his department. Unless he planned on growing out a full forest on his face, he needed to shave. Now.

  Like he trusted a razor at the moment. He barely trusted himself driving home.

  He picked up his soap and washed the rest of his body, too tired to get excited by anything below the waist and too wasted on a la
ck of dinner to be concerned that some of his carefully toned muscle was turning into fat. No time to work out recently. Joseph was a heathy thirty-two and in no mood to turn into the pudgy beat cop. Besides, didn’t exactly get him the ladies like having washboard abs to show off did.

  Sylvia was definitely checking me out tonight.

  Shit. Sylvia.

  Choosing who he wanted to go undercover for his investigation was not easy. Dozens of female profiles had crossed his desk over the past two weeks, some from the area, most from across the country or even the world. Mexico was particularly interested in taking down Alexander Sheen if it meant fewer of its women trafficked through the infamous I5 corridor. (The east Portland gangs, however, were not impressed.) One Mexican agent had penned a passionate letter to Joseph imploring him to choose her since she was convinced her sister had been kidnapped by Sheen’s operation. That meant she was a loose cannon, though. Joseph had seen firsthand what happened when things got too personal during these investigations.

  Plus, he was not convinced that having an agent was the best bet. He had played with the idea of using a civilian to do the brunt of the evidence gathering for a while now, but it wasn’t until he heard that Sylvia Rogers had been brought in that he realized she would be the perfect candidate – whether his mother approved it or not.

  He also had not realized how badly he still had it for her.

  If falling in lust with Stella had been a surprise, then enjoying his time with Sylvia during their tenure in Crow’s club was shocking. When they met, she was the (paid, although he didn’t know it at the time) girlfriend of Sebastian Fletcher, Crow’s right-hand-man. (Which Joseph also hadn’t known until the FBI raid.) One of the things they had to do to stay in Crow’s good graces was participate in swinging, and the first time Joseph was paired with Sylvia, he had not expected to have such a good time.

  It had just been sex, though. Even though he had thought about her for days afterward, all while Stella – who wasn’t shy about fucking Sebastian, one would note – expressed her jealous ire by locking him out of her bedroom.