Excerpt:

Paul sighed in what looked like relief. “I told my boss I was going to talk to you, and he’s all for it. You’ll be an anonymous paid informant for now, I’ll be your one and only contact within the force, but when it goes down, you’ll probably need to testify, which means a big target on your forehead if we don’t get them all.”

Drake absently rubbed the old scar on his chest. Wouldn’t be the first time he walked around with a big, bold bull’s-eye on his back. “I’ve been taking money from people wanting to know if their spouses were cheating on them for the last few years and installing security systems. Maybe some excitement is what I need.”

Paul chuckled. “You miss it, don’t you?”

With a one-shoulder shrug, Drake finished off his beer. “Yes and no.” He missed the adrenaline rush of breaking a case, getting the bad guy—the sense of accomplishment he felt when the drug dealer or pimp or crime boss sat behind bars. But he didn’t miss the fear of being undercover, of always looking over his shoulder, wondering who was ready to slit his throat at any moment.

“I appreciate the help, whatever you’re willing to give me.”

Drake smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m here for ya.” He yawned and slouched in his chair again. He’d been up most of the night staking out a motel, gathering dirt on a client’s cheating husband. After that, he spent the morning testing the new security system he contracted to be installed at an apartment complex. He was beat.

And all the talk of illegal human trafficking had put a damper on his appetite for sex. As much as he’d like to put his membership to better use at Incognito, he decided he’d have to take a rain check on sticking around to leash a stray sub for a quickie.

He folded his hands over his middle and scanned the room. Then his heart almost jumped out of his chest when he spotted someone he never expected to see again.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as he sat up and swung his chair around, so his back was to the woman.

Paul raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“That woman with Kat.” He thumbed over his shoulder.

“Hot babe. What about her? She one of the cheaters you’ve been following?” Paul’s grin was pure humor. “Or one of the other women?”

“Neither. Remember I told you about The Pleasure Club?”

“The sex date club?” Paul’s expression proved his friend was having too much fun at his expense. Paul’s tone changed to mimic an anonymous commercial announcer. “TPC…the pleasurable way to turn fantasy into reality.”

“Yeah, yeah… So you remember.” Drake rolled his eyes and stayed slouched in his chair. “Quit staring at her.”

“What about it?”

“She was one of my…nights.”

Paul let out a low whistle between his teeth, his attention even more riveted now as she walked about the room with the club’s owner. “That’s some fantasy, man.” When Drake didn’t respond, Paul’s eyes narrowed on him. “Why’re you hiding from her? She couldn’t’ve been that bad.”

Drake shook his head. “No. She was…amazing. And fun.” Too fun. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to force that night from his memory. The attempt was a lost cause. He’d thought about his witty little “diamond thief” a thousand times in the last few months. He hadn’t found anyone so great before or since.

“Okay, so why are you freaking out?”

Drake looked across the table at his buddy. They’d been friends since he moved to Florida, and Paul was the one who introduced him to Incognito, but TPC had been Drake’s thing. Paul didn’t need blind dates when he had a cute little redhead warming his bed at home.

“Because it’s against TPC rules for two players to seek contact outside of the club, especially for someone like me who has the ability to find just about anyone. I signed a contract, swore to never look for anyone I met through the club. We all use pseudonyms. It’s supposed to be totally anonymous.”

Paul leaned forward and in a stage whisper said, “You didn’t seek her out. You two happen to be in the same place at the same time. It’s fate, man. The stars aligned.”

He shoved Paul’s shoulder. “Cut that shit out.”

Paul laughed.

Drake couldn’t tell his buddy he didn’t want to see his diamond thief outside of TPC, because he did. He’d dreamed of it. He’d even caught himself driving by the house that belonged to the real V. Casey, according to the mailbox at the curb. That had been a technical violation of the rules, but he appeased the guilt with a lame excuse that he’d been headed in the general direction anyway. And he’d idly wondered what TPC member had volunteered the home for that night’s scene. He figured the club would’ve prepared her for the night by providing the key and layout so she could stay in character. She’d done a damn fine job, and he’d hoped to see her again, because that one amazing night was something he held precious in his…heart.

Fuck, he was a sap, but it was true. He’d hoped that TPC would hook them up again, even though Pleasure Masters weren’t allowed to request a specific member.

Still, he’d hoped she might….