With a Twist (Last Call #4)(43)

I was bound and determined to be productive, because I learned very quickly that my idle mind over the last week kept turning over and over again to Andrea. Living in the Outer Banks, it's almost an art form to learn how to sit on the beach with a cooler of beer and bake away your stress under the sun. I've had twenty-eight years of practice doing it.

I figured it would be easy …  like riding a bike.

Except, when I was down on the beach …  my feet sunk deep into the wet sand and a cold Budweiser in my hands, I found that I just couldn't fucking relax.



       
         
       
        

Because I kept thinking of Andrea.

Andrea dancing.

Andrea smiling.

Andrea's mouth on my cock.

Andrea tackling Simon.

Andrea's pussy in my mouth.

Andrea, Andrea, Andrea.

After three days of torture, I gave up and started sanding my deck by hand. The muscles in my back and neck were on constant fire and my skin had turned dark brown from the hot sun. I went to bed each night exhausted and slept dreamlessly.

Throwing the block of wood with sandpaper wrapped around it, I take off my gloves and drop them to the deck. Standing up, I swivel my head and arch my back to work out the kinks.

"Want a beer?" I ask Hunter as I head into the house.

"Sure," he says as he follows me in.

The icy blast of air conditioning is a welcome relief, the coolness of the beer bottle in my hand even better. After our bottles are opened, Hunter cocks a hip against my kitchen counter and levels his gaze at me. "So, what's wrong?"

My eyebrows rise in surprise. "What do you mean 'what's wrong'?"

He just stares at me, not saying a word. He holds his beer casually in his hand, but I can tell he's on high alert.

High alert to call bullshit on me if I choose to dick him around.

Snorting in frustration, I take a long pull on my beer, and then point it at him as I swallow. "I hate it you know me so well."

Hunter shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. "There's no one I know better than you, except for Brody, of course, and that's to be expected since we're identical twins. But I know you very well, my friend, so tell me what's eatin' at you."

"Nothing really," I say evasively. "It was just a really tough undercover operation. I'm a little drained from it."

"No," Hunter says firmly. "There's more to it than that."

"What do you know?" I fire back.

"Well, outside of coming to Last Call your first night back-for just one beer, I might remind you-you've basically been avoiding everyone since you returned."

"I've been working," I say as I point out of the kitchen window to my back deck.

"What the fuck ever, dude. Quit pussy-footin' around and just tell me what the problem is," Hunter growls. He punctuates that by walking over to my kitchen table, kicking one of the chairs back, and dropping down into it. "I'm not leaving until you lay it all out."

"Asshole," I mutter, but I decide it's easier to get this over with than fight with him. I know this man as well as he knows me. He'll sit at that table and won't move until I unload. 

I guess that's what best friends are for.

Sitting down in the chair, I pick at the label on the beer. "I guess I better fill you in on the operation first."

This I needed to do before I unloaded about Andrea, because Hunter needed to understand the dynamics of our relationship.

"I can't tell you everything because the case is still open, but I went undercover to work at a strip club in Raleigh. The owner was suspected of selling off his dancers as sex slaves."

"That is sick," Hunter says under his breath.

"Yeah, and you don't even want to know the depths to which I had to sink to work there. But anyway …  I got in good with the owner and eventually he brought me in on the operation."

Hunter sits a little straighter in his chair. "You helped to sell women to slavers?"

"No, by the time the first sale went down that I was in on, we had an undercover FBI agent posing as one of the dancers."

"Seriously?" Hunter asks, his face awash in suspicion. "FBI agents know how to strip?"

"This one did," I said, images of Andrea's naked and gyrating body filtering through my mind. "Her name's Andrea."

"So how did it all work out?" Hunter asks cautiously.

"Worked out great. Andrea and I made the bust after money changed hands and the ring has been taken down."

Hunter heaves a sigh of relief, and I'm sure he was thinking something dire happened to Andrea, which was causing my funk. "So, what's the problem?"