Undercover Cuckold Page 2

  There was a pause, then he heard a rattle of clutter being shoved aside and the scraping of metal chair legs on the tile floor. The door was wrenched forcefully open and a sweaty mustached face pushed itself into the space, eyes narrowed.

  “What the goddamn fuck do you want, Chapel?”

  “Nice to see you too, Jack. Gonna invite me in or not?”

  “Invite you in? I should kick your fucking ass, is what I should do.”

  Scott pulled a pained expression. “What? What did I do this time?”

  Kowalski just shook his head. “Get in and sit down. I want a goddamn explanation.”

  “Explanation for what?” he asked, stepping into the tiny cramped office. It felt like it was about a hundred and twenty degrees in the little room – the tiny metal desk fan was struggling bravely but to little avail.

  “You drag in some perp, this peeper of yours. Caught red-handed, easy, open and shut.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So we barely even finished booking him before the goddamn hammer comes down. I had a call from the mayor's office, Chapel, the goddamn mayor. Suddenly we're getting hit with red tape from every side and there are swarms of lawyers setting up camp out there like they're getting ready to lay siege or something.”

  “Shit...”

  “Oh, it gets better,” Kowalski said, flopping heavily back into his chair. “Couple hours ago that woman calls me.”

  “What woman?”

  “The victim. Fairchild. She calls me up and says she's dropping all charges.”

  “What, what?”

  “You heard me. Dropped it all, demanded we let him go, practically begged me. And, Chapel, I'm not gonna lie to you, she sounded scared. Something bad going on here, and I don't fucking like it. I don't like that you dumped it on us without a heads up that you were tossing a live freaking grenade into our laps.”

  “What, are you saying he's gone?”

  “Adios!” Kowalski grunted. “Hitched a plain for Minnesota, left an hour ago. I had a man watching, he saw Henry Virgil get on board with his own two eyes, the slippery bastard. He's long gone now. So I'm only going to ask you this one, Chapel: what in the hell have you gotten me into?”

  Scott took a deep breath. This was bigger than he'd realized. Much bigger. How far did it go? And what was he really risking by continuing to prod the hornet's nest? It would be a bad damned idea to pursue this thing any further.

  He wasn't going to back off now, though, that was for damn sure. Now he was mad.

  “I don't know, Jack,” he said, shaking his head slowly, deep in thought, “I just don't know. But I'm right in it with you.”

  Chapter Four

  “You're kidding me.”

  “I wish I was.”

  “So he's really gone then? All we did... it was just for nothing?”

  “He's gone, and yeah, pretty much. Worse than nothing, really. Getting rid of Virgil only cuts off the one trail we've got to follow. Now we don't even have that.”

  James breathed out a deep breath and sat back at the little kitchen table. He took off his glasses and set them down, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked up, eyes hard and cold with fury and determination, and Scott got a bit of a chill.

  A lot of the time the man looked like any other professorial type, with his neat suits and calmly rational demeanor. Other times Scott caught a glimpse of something more, a great suppressed rage, and Cain took on the essence of some old African war god. It was frightening and a little bit thrilling too.

  He seemed too big for the little kitchen, literally larger than life.

  James and Julie had both been sleeping when Scott had returned the previous night – in separate rooms, of course, with no sign of any torrid lovemaking. Scott had slouched into the bedroom and fallen asleep beside his wife almost before his head had touched the pillow.

  He'd expected to sleep in late, but had actually woken before dawn, feeling a strange energy coursing through him. He'd come out to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and found the professor was already awake and seated at the table. Scott had filled him in on the story he'd heard at the police station.

  “Is that it, then? We don't have any leads or clues?”

  “Well...” Scott leaned back in his chair. The coffee on the table was steaming. He should have made it an iced coffee, the temperature as already starting to rise and just the thought of drinking that boiling hot beverage was making him perspire. “I do have one idea, but it's a little...”

  He trailed off at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

  Julie came into the kitchen with a yawn, her slippered feet padding on the tile and her light bathrobe whisking softly. “Morning guys,” she said sleepily.

  Scott and James looked at one another. Julie was largely in the dark about what was really going on. That was usual; Scott didn't like to discuss his cases with her. It had always seemed to him better to keep those two halves of his life separate.

  This case had already busted that policy, though, it had the minute he'd brought James to stay here. And, if his plan was going to work, she'd be getting in a lot deeper. Deeper than she'd ever been before.

  Maybe too deep.

  “Did you tell Julie about the fire?” Scott asked.

  James nodded.

  “You sit with us a minute, Julie? Something I want to discuss with you.”

  James' eyebrow arched, but he didn't say anything about it. Julie settled cautiously into the third chair, looking between the two men trepidatiously.

  “What's this about, Scott?” she asked slowly. She was turning her wedding ring slowly in circles around her finger, the diamond flashing in the light as it rotated. It was a nervous habit of hers that he'd noticed a long time ago, but it seemed somehow to hold a special portentousness at the moment.

  “It's about the fire, Julie.”

  “At James' place? I mean, it's... it's just awful. An accident like that is just... I really can't say how sorry I am, James. If there's anything we can do...”

  Scott shook his head. “I'm not convinced it was an accident, babe.”

  Julie blinked, her face turning a little pale. “I... but... but that's awful! Who would do something like that?”

  “That's what we're trying to figure out, honey. And... we could use your help.”

  James sat forward, his brow furrowing. Julie's mouth fell opened. “Me...? But what could I do?”

  “James, you want to tell Julie what this is all about?”

  “I think I know what you're driving at, Scott, and I'm not sure it's a good idea. In fact I think it's a terrible one.”

  “You have something better in mind, Professor?”

  “I don't want to put your wife at risk.”

  “Neither do I, but the way I see it she already is. I'm involved up to my neck in this now, and she's involved with me, so that makes us involved, no getting around it. She's going to be at risk until we solve it. The only way forward is through.”

  “Are you sure you're willing to take that chance?”

  “I don't see another choice.”

  Julie slapped the table. She glared at one then the other, her mouth set in a firm line and her eyes narrowed. “Okay, enough. Don't talk around me like I'm not here. This is still my kitchen and I'll throw you both out if you don't level with me. What's going on? What's so risky? Explain.”

  James sighed. “Some years ago, Julie, my project brought me into the circle of a certain group of people. Members of an exclusive society.”

  “Your project?” she asked, “The one about, uh, sexual dimorphism and race or something like that?”

  “Indeed. It began as research but over time it started to become something more. I started to get personally involved. That society was the Black and White Club.”

  “It sounds... I don't know, what is that?”

  “Essentially a kink group. Married couples who have open relationships. Specifically, with African American men.”

  “Wha
t, so... you... have sex with other men's wives? White women?”

  He nodded. “That's correct. Does the idea bother you?”

  “No! No, of... of course not. I just had no idea that there were places where... Well, it's just a bit out of my league is all.” Her cheeks were bright red when she spoke.

  “A short while ago, I was with a woman, and I happened to spot a stalker. Someone watching and taking pictures. I chased him off, but it transpired that he'd been following me for some time and gathering evidence of my various partners and I.”

  “Partners? Plural? How... how many women are there? If, um, if you don't mind me asking.” She looked down at the table, her fingers twisting nervously together.

  “Not at all. It's a large number, but that's beside the point, however. Many of these women – all of them, really – are rich and powerful people. Members of a higher echelon of society than you and I move in. I assumed that goal was to blackmail those women, but no such attempt was ever made.”

  “Basically,” Scott said, taking over, “we don't know who's behind it and we don't know what they want. But James is clearly in danger. He's being threatened, and the guy who hired me to investigate is trying to sweep it under the rug. I don't like being played. I want to know what's up, and... well, I don't want James getting killed to be on my conscious.”

  “Of course not, no, oh God no...” she reached out and took James' hand. Her slender white fingers clutched at his huge black hand. She turned then to Scott. “But... where do I come into this.”

  Scott took a deep breath. “I want to get inside the Club. I've been there once, but just for a meeting. I want to go for real, talk to people. I've got a lead I want to check out. A bigwig there with the initials P.B. Ring a bell, James?”

  He shook his head. “I'm afraid not, but I didn't tend to get especially close to any of the men there, if you take my meaning.”

  “Understood.”

  “But Scott, you're not going to be able to get in there on your own. If Mason has something against me, he'll have told the rest of them. It's a boy's club among the white men, they stick together. You're not going to be able to get in without your wife.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said, his voice shaking just a little bit. “I know.”

  Julie looked at him, her eyes going wide with horror. “You mean... you want me to...come with you in there?”

  Scott forced a grin. “What do you think about going on a little adventure together, honey?”

  Chapter Five

  James licked his lower lip and glanced at Scott. The two men shared a long look. The black man tightened his grip on the telephone receiver.

  “You ready?” Scott asked.

  “I believe so. I'm afraid I'm not much practiced at subterfuge. I find the direct method is usually preferable.”

  “Afraid that isn't really an option this time, chief. If we mess this up it'll tip them off that we're not giving up. They'll be onto us and twice as guarded next time.”

  “I understand the stakes, Mr. Chapel.”

  “Just trust me, lying's like anything else; it gets easier with practice. Let's do it.”

  “Right.” He took a deep breath and reached down to punch in the number on the pad. He held the receiver to his ear and waited, one finger tapping on plastic case as he listened for the ring.

  Scott felt himself getting tense as he waited. What if she didn't pick up? What if she wouldn't help? The whole plan would go down the tubes before it had started.

  They'd thought of the hitch in their plan almost right away. It wasn't enough that they wanted to go to the club. The Black and White Club was, after all, a highly exclusive establishment. Invitation only. You couldn't just walk inside. That meant they needed somebody. It had been Scott who'd thought of the perfect person.

  James spoke. “Georgette, darling. How have you been? …Yes, that's right. I'm glad to hear that. Wonderful… Really? I see... I see...”

  Scott stepped back, then turned and went into the office. He picked up the phone there, as gently as possible so as not to make a clacking sound. He pressed it to his ear, holding the mouthpiece well away from his lips.

  He heard James' voice first. “Listen, Georgette, I'm actually calling for something in particular.”

  “Oh? What's that, James?” came the coquettish voice of Georgette Wilson.

  “I had a favor to ask, actually. I hate to ring up like this and ask for help, but I'm in a bit of a jam.”

  “Oh, come now! You know I'd do anything for you. I mean, after what you did... Please, what is it?”

  Scott had met Georgette Wilson in the course of his investigation. She'd been one of the women photographed in bed with James. As it turned out, she and her husband had used James to father the child that she was now a few months pregnant with. Scott hadn't probed too deeply into the specifics, but he'd gotten the impression that the woman had fallen absolutely in love with the father of her child.

  She was the first person he thought of it he realized that they'd need an insider. From the sounds of it, his intuition had been right on the money.

  “I have a friend, Georgette. A young couple I met through the school. They're interested in coming to the Club.”

  The woman laughed. “While sure, why not? The more the merrier! Did you want me to hold their hands or something?”

  “It's a bit more than that, I'm afraid. They need an official invitation to the Club and, for reasons I'd really rather not get in to just now, I don't want to do it myself. I was wondering if you and your husband could sponsor them. As a favor to me.”

  Silence. Scott sucked on his teeth and waited.

  “I don't know... I'd have to talk to him about it... See, the truth is, we had someone else in mind that we were going to sponsor...”

  “Georgette. You remember last time we were together?”

  She laughed, and Scott thought he could hear a bit of a blush in her laughter. “How could I forget? That's a night I'm going to remember for the rest of my life.”

  “You remember what you said?”

  “...When?”

  “When you were cumming, Georgette. When you were on your back with your legs open, and you were begging for my cum inside you. You said you'd do anything. Anything. That's what you said. I delivered on my part of the bargain.”

  “I meant anything sexual, James.”

  “Well, this is what I need. I wish I could explain more, but I promise you it's important, Georgette, and I promise it's in a good cause. Will you help me?”

  Another long pause, then the woman sighed. “Ah... alright, James, alright. For you. But you're going to come visit me again soon, aren't you?”

  “Of course I am. You know how much I've been missing that little body of yours.”

  “Well, better make it soon, before this little body isn't so little anymore. I'm already starting to show...”

  “I'll make it there soon, darling, I promise.”

  “You'd better.”

  “I really appreciate this, really. I'll get you the information soon. You won't have a problem convincing Tom?”

  She laughed. “Of course not. I'm pregnant, James, I can get away with anything. If he gives me any trouble I'll just start crying until he agrees.”

  “Haha, alright. I knew I could count on you.”

  “James?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you.”

  “I know. I want you too. Soon. Thanks again.”

  There was a click, and the line went dead. Scott set his receiver gently back on the hook, and a grin spread across his lips. Now they had a way in.

  Chapter Six

  “A little more... yes... yes... oh, deeper baby, deeper... fill me up, please... oh God, yes, yes, Scott, yes, yes!”

  Julie shifted beneath him, pushing her hips up to meet his pelvis as he thrust into her. He could feel his balls slapping against her bottom as he fucked her, his four-inch cock plunging in up to its full depth over and over again. Her ripe breas
ts glistened with sweat as she moved, her eyes shut tight and her lips contorting with pleasure, closing tight then opening in a gasp then hanging wide in a silent cry.

  She felt so good on him that he could hardly believe it; her sweet pussy-lips enveloped his cock in a tantalizingly erotic fashion. He was fully inside that warm slippery tight space inside her which continually fascinated and amazed him, the depths of her erotic being.

  He never got tired of sliding his cock slowly between her labia, feeling that first moist embrace, that little squeeze, seeing the way she would arch her back and roll her head and moan when he first entered her.

  He lived for these moments.

  Her whole body shone with sweat in the darkness of the hot night and her face was flushed from the heat. Scott himself had pushed himself nearly ragged. He'd been trying to hold back as long as he could, restraining himself from reaching that final climax.

  He denied himself his orgasm, determined to get her off before he let himself do so.

  Scott had never been an especially skilled lover, he was now realizing. He'd never really known it, but he'd been letting his wife down for far too long. She'd never complained, at least not to him, but that didn't change the facts of it. He was going to do better for her.

  After watching James Cain, he knew that he'd need to step up if he wanted to keep his woman happy. He was fucking for his very marriage here, in his mind.

  He was also exhausted. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was just trying to keep up a relentless new pace, but he was so tired that he could hardly bring himself to go on, and yet still he went, pounding her doggedly and doing everything he could to arouse her. He nibbled her earlobe, played with her breasts, reached down to grip her buttocks with his hands, everything he could think of.

  It seemed to be working, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.

  “Are you close?” he panted, silently praying she was.

  “Don't stop!” she moaned, “don't stop!”

  “Okay, hon, okay, I... I won't...”

  But he could feel a familiar stirring in his loins that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back for long. She was too tight, too smooth, too good. Her entire body seemed to be yearning for his cum, as if it were designed in total for nothing more than to make him orgasm right now.