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seven

Dirty and Dangerous

Cade (“Red”)

I'm in Luv (Wit a Stripper): Mike Jones, T-Pain

"H ave you fucking considered the shit we're going to be in with the captain once he tests us and we pop dirty?" Carter asks, his voice tinged with panic as we step into the club, our eyes scanning for Whitney.

Now shielded by the anonymity of our masks, I let my expression drop as memories of the initiation last night flood back, making my stomach churn. But as twisted as it sounds, if being part of Masked Mayhem means being closer to Whitney, I’m willing to do whatever it fucking takes.

"We fucking beat a man to death last night, 13, and you're worried about failing a fucking drug test? I couldn't give a shit about the test or what the captain thinks. We need to make sure he never finds out what we've done." I turn to him, emphasizing the gravity of the situation we've found ourselves in.

Our original mission was to infiltrate this group and uncover if they were behind the string of robberies, murders, and the chaos that has gripped the city. Instead, we’ve plunged deep into a perilous mess, and I’m not sure there’s a fucking way back.

"I know, Red. I get it," Carter groans, haunted by the memory of snapping Johnny’s neck.

"If it comes up, we can always claim we failed the test because getting high was part of our initiation," I suggest, momentarily distracted as Whitney spins gracefully around the pole before us, her bare skin glistening under the low lights.

All I can think about is how close I was to her earlier—her lips on mine, her body pressed against me, her ass in my hands. I want more. I desperately need more. However, the moment Havoc and Crow step into the room, rage ignites inside me like a fucking wildfire, extinguishing any hope of being with Whitney tonight.

"Incoming," 13 warns, eyeing Whitney as she bends over and touches her toes with her legs spread, her perfectly round ass on display for the crowd.

I lose myself in the rhythm of the music, marveling at how each sway of her body is perfectly synchronized with the beat. She twerks gracefully in the air, her silky dark hair swirling around her as she uses her arms and the pole for support, showcasing her physical strength. I disregard Havoc as he takes a seat beside me, my focus entirely on her as she dances, effortlessly sliding up and down the pole.

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Havoc asks, equally entranced by the girl who has my thoughts in turmoil.

“She sure is,” I reply, momentarily forgetting who I’m talking with.

If only he knew I was a cop, he wouldn’t dare try to intimidate me. In reality, he should be the one intimidated, but I can’t fucking risk blowing my cover when 13 and I have already crossed the line from right to wrong in a matter of hours.

“She’s fucking mine, Red. You understand that?” He growls, an aura of aggression radiating from him.

“You don’t own her, Havoc. I refuse to let you take her,” I respond, meeting his gaze firmly. “If you want her, you’ll have to fight me for her.”

“I’m not fighting you,” he scoffs. “Just know your fucking place. Unlike you, I won’t hesitate to kill someone, especially for the girl I love.” He seems surprised by his own admission.

Without a word, he rises and departs, dragging Crow down a dimly lit VIP corridor at the back of the club. I chuckle and seize the moment to make my move on Whitney while there’s no audience. 13 remains seated, vigilant with his phone in hand, ready to alert me when Havoc and Crow return. He’s always been a dependable partner, even through the treacherous undercover operations we’ve undertaken together.

“Nice dance,” I whisper into Whitney’s ear, assisting her off the stage, secretly wishing her mask wasn’t obscuring her face.

“I saw you watching the entire time,” she laughs, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "You actually made me nervous."

“I don’t know why you’d be nervous. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve watched you dance.” I intertwine my fingers with hers, holding her hand tightly as we navigate through the club toward a different hallway—the one that Havoc didn’t vanish down.

On her own accord, Whitney leads me into a secluded room, shutting the door behind us. She exudes confidence as she pushes me onto the plush leather couch, mirrors surrounding us. Once she sits on my lap, her hands resting on my shoulders, I realize I’m completely fucking done for. There’s no fucking way I can resist her. Our masks come off instantly, and the urge to kiss her becomes uncontrollable.

"Whitney," I moan as she grinds against me, her body igniting a fire within my fucking soul.

“Shh, just let it happen,” she whispers, reaching down to unfasten my pants to free my cock.

This isn’t how I imagined our first time alone together would be, but in this whirlwind of chaos, it seems fitting. My heart races as she pushes her hips against me, the friction of her body against mine sending electric jolts of sensation through me, my cock becoming painfully hard. Every inch of my skin feels alive, every nerve ending on fire as I struggle to keep my composure.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

I need her to be certain, to know that in moments like this, everything—even our secrets—seems to blur and dissolve.

“More than fucking anything,” she breathes heavily, her breath hot against my neck.

The way she says it makes something primal stir within me, a desire that’s both intoxicating and terrifying.

“I want you now.” She bites her lip, looking down at me, a twinkle of need swirling in her eyes.

Just like that, the impossible becomes reality. My hands slide around her waist, pulling her closer as we devour one another with our lips—full of urgency, full of need. She's a firecracker, and I’m igniting every second we have as we contest against the world outside these four walls.

Our kisses grow deeper and more insatiable, and I can’t help but feel the weight of what hangs over us—our identities, our mission, and the choices that brought us to this moment. But in here, none of that fucking matters. It’s just us, lost in a whirlwind of passion, drowning out the chaos with every touch, every whisper.

Impatiently, I push her already soaked panties to the side of her pussy, swiping my fingers up and down her lips before I slide them inside her, watching her eyes flutter and her head tilt back ever so slightly.

"Ride my fucking fingers, Little Mischief," I order in a demanding tone that she responds to very well.

Without any objection, she begins to ride my hand, bouncing up and down on my fingers as I pump them mercilessly. Reaching up the front of her body, I hold her neck, sliding a third finger into her, watching her lips part as she comes undone before my eyes. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she finds her rhythm, riding my fingers like she's about to ride my cock.

"Fuck, you're drenched for me," I groan, pushing my fingers inside her pussy as far as I can, watching her writhe for me.

"Mhm, Cade, I need you," she purrs, lowering her lips to the side of my neck, ghosting them over my burning skin.

"Does my little dancer need my big cock to make her feel better?" I ask seductively in her ear, her tongue gliding along my collarbone giving me chills.

Her pussy clenches around my fingers as I continue to fuck her while she rides them, her wetness dripping down my fucking hand and soaking it. She moans again, a slight arch in her back as she nods frantically.

"Yes, Cade. I want your cock, please, let me give you the best fucking ride of your life."

Her promise rings like music to my ears, and so I pull my cramped fingers out of her tight cunt, shoving them roughly between her lips and pressing them against her tongue.

"Lick them clean, baby. I want you to taste yourself and tell me how fucking good it is," I demand in a rather dominant but playful tone, one she submits to without hesitation.

I grin, feeling her sucking right away, her eyes closed as she sinks onto my lap, her pussy resting on my cock. Thrusting my fingers in and out of her mouth, I surprise her by shoving them deeply until the tips tickle the back of her throat, and, to my surprise, she doesn't even fucking gag.

"You've been such a good fucking girl," I growl, cupping her pussy and rubbing my palm against her swollen clit. "Your cunt is already soaked for me, like it was made for my cock to fucking ruin, so if you're ready to be ruined and fucked like you've never been fucked before, sink on this cock, Little Mischief, and give me the ride of my fucking life."

She flaunts a seductive smirk, making my cock leak little beads of moisture around the tip. Without using her hands, she slowly and teasingly slides down my shaft, her lips parting as my size stretches her, and she doesn't stop until her pussy swallows every inch of my dick.

"Jesus, you're so fucking tight. Are you sure you can take it—take all of it?" I ask, worried I might hurt her.

She nods, wiggling her hips to bury me deeper inside her. Slightly arching her back and bringing her feet up, planting them beside my thighs on the couch, she clings to my shoulders and begins to bounce up and down, taking every inch of my dick without wincing.

I cup her ass, helping guide her movements as we become lost in the utter bliss of the intimate connection, both watching ourselves in the mirrors all around us.

"I can handle it, Cade. I can take all of it... just watch," she teases, licking her puffy lips before I grab the back of her neck and forcefully bring her mouth to meet mine.

The kiss is her distraction from the short amount of pain she feels at first, but when she's used to it, her inner freak comes out and she truly begins to ride my cock, hard and fast, taking me as deep as she wants.

Her moans mingle with the pulsing music coming from the club outside, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. Every thrust is filled with urgency, an insatiable desire ignited by her enthusiasm. I can barely keep up with the rhythm; she’s relentless, her body a symphony of heat and tension that builds with each movement.

The way she rides me, I can tell she’s embracing her own hunger, and that realization makes my fucking heart race even faster. Right now, nothing else exists—no drug tests, no hidden motives, and definitely no blood on our hands. It's as if the world outside has completely faded away.

“Fuck, Cade! Just like that!” she pleads, her words driving me to push harder and deeper, my hands gripping her hips with a possessive urgency.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as her pace quickens, the exquisite friction triggering primal instincts within me. I take in the sight of her—exquisite, beautiful, and so unabashedly alive—completely lost in the moment. Her hair cascades down her back, and the intensity in her eyes is enough to set the room on fucking fire.

"You’re fucking stunning, you know that?" I mutter, desperate to convey how much she captivates me.

“I know,” she replies, a playful smirk gracing her lips even as she rides me harder. “And I’m just getting started.”

With that, she leans back, using my thighs for balance as she angles her hips just right. The sensation is overwhelming, the way she grinds against my pelvis while I thrust up into her. Our breaths mingle, hot and heavy, as she loses herself in the rhythm.

“Cade—I can’t…” she moans, trailing off as another wave of pleasure washes over her. I can feel the tension building within her, and it drives me fucking wild.

“Let go, baby. I want to feel you come around me. Just ride it out,” I encourage, my lips brushing against hers as I capture her mouth in another searing kiss.

Her walls begin to tighten around me, her pussy drenching me in her warm arousal, and I know she’s close. I push into her, hitting the silver hoop pierced through her clit while matching her frantic movements, unwilling to stop until we both reach that precipice together.

“Cade, I’m—”

“Let it go, Whitney,” I demand, the urgency in my voice matching the fever pitch of our actions. “Come for me. Little Mischief.”

And with my permission, she spirals into ecstasy, her body shaking as she lets out a moan that echoes through the room, breaking down the walls I’d fought so hard to maintain. I follow her lead, our release crashing over us like a tidal wave as I fill her cunt with my cum and she showers my cock with hers.

“I’ve never felt anything like that,” she gasps, her body trembling as she collapses forward onto my chest, panting.

“Me neither,” I admit, still trying to regain my breath.

I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as I gently rock us together. There’s a warmth settling over us now, a bond that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. But the moment is short-lived, the harsh reality crashing back down around us. The door creaks open, and I freeze, bracing myself for whoever might walk in.

Carter stands at the entrance, eyes wide in shock, instantly recognizing the situation we’re in.

“What the actual fuck?” He breathes, his voice a mix of surprise, betrayal, and concern.

Whitney quickly scrambles off my lap, pinching her underwear back into place as she attempts to regain some semblance of composure. My heart races—not just from what just happened and how good it was, but from the knowledge that we’ve crossed a line that I'm sure neither one of us wants to go back across.

“Carter, it’s not what it looks like—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“No, Red. It’s exactly what it fucking looks like, and we have a fucking problem,” he says, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Havoc and Crow are back, and they’re looking for you. This isn’t safe anymore.”

Just like that, the gravity of our situation sinks back in. I glance at Whitney, whose eyes are wide in shock, her mind racing as fast as my own.

“Can you get out through the back?” I ask her, trying to keep my voice calm.

“I-I think so,” she stutters, still not fully processing the chaos that has ensued so quickly.

“Carter, keep an eye on them. If they start heading in this direction, we need to figure out a way to diffuse the situation,” I instruct, my heart pounding with urgency.

He nods, stepping back to watch the hallway. I pull Whitney aside, looking into her eyes.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I'm not running, Cade,” she whispers, her hand shaking slightly in mine.

“Yes, the fuck you are.” I lean in, brushing my lips against her forehead, holding onto that fleeting moment of intimacy before our world collapses around us again.

"Now fucking go."

"No." With a determined look, she shakes her head and stands firm beside me, refusing to leave.

"If Havoc finds out wh—" I snap, feeling more than rage bubble beneath the surface.

"Let him. If you remember, I'm nobody's. Nobody controls me anymore. No one owns me anymore. I refuse to hide in the shadows and pretend like there isn't something between us," she says, so fucking confident, and it makes me want to fuck her all over again—really fuck her.

“Cade,” Carter says urgently, snapping back to the present as I prepare myself for whatever comes next. "They're coming this way. What do we do?"

I take a deep breath, adrenaline surging as I step in front of him. "We do what we always do. We face it head-on. But this time, we gotta remember that it isn’t just us we have to worry about.”

Suddenly, the muffled sounds of laughter and music from the club seem like a distant memory. It feels like we’re suspended in time, encased in a world of our own creation, but it can’t last. As much as I want to surrender completely, the harsh reality of our lives looms far too close. Before I can lose myself any further, a loud bang against the door jolts us apart. My heart sinks as panic kicks in, and I instinctively reach for my gun, remembering where we are and who I’m dealing with.

“Hey! Get the fuck out here!” Havoc’s voice bellows from the other side, fury lacing every word. “We have a fucking problem!”

I glance at Whitney, her eyes wide with alarm, but her body radiating with confidence. She quickly adjusts her clothing and chocolate curls, her hypnotic green eyes staring into mine and sinking their claws into my fucking chest, the moment unfortunately bursting like a bubble.

“What do we do?” she asks, her voice a little shaken, brimming with urgency.

Who wouldn't be fucking terrified in this situation? Havoc is fucking unhinged, and I'd rather not be on his shitlist.

“Stay quiet,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

I can’t let this slip, not now. With shaky hands, I check my weapon, a sickening knot in my stomach tightening as I hear the two of them in the VIP corridor.

“Let me handle this,” I whisper before I move toward the door, heart pounding in my chest.

The last thing I want is to drag Whitney into the chaos we’ve created, but I can't let Havoc or Crow sense that something's different.

As I inch the door open just a crack, the scene outside grounds me. Havoc has his back turned to me, and Crow and other members of Masked Mayhem are searching the rooms, eyes narrowing as he notices the shadow lurking behind the door.

“Something’s off, man,” Havoc says, his voice low and tense. “We need to fucking get everyone out of here. A rival is looking to settle some scores—they’ve been spotted nearby, and there's definitely more than one of them."

The news sends a chill down my spine, as I realize that our secured world is teetering on the brink of disaster. And yet, deep down, all I can think about is Whitney and how to keep her safe.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I don't think it's us he's looking for, so we might be able to play it off.

I take a deep breath and push the door open fully, stepping into the chaotic hallway ready to confront the reality that threatens not only our undercover mission but also the electrifying connection I've just begun to explore with the one and only girl that the depraved lunatic has a fucking thing for, and he's got no plans to share her with anyone—especially me.

“Locking eyes with Havoc, I nod as he glances at Whitney and Carter suspiciously. “What’s the plan?”

With an air of unease settling over the room, I can feel Whitney's gaze on me, a silent plea for reassurance. Holding onto that fire between us, I know that I must protect it at all costs—even if it means putting ourselves back into the line of fire.

"Why the fuck did you three just come walking out of that room together?" He asks, coldly, gripping the handle of a freshly sharpened blade, looking out of his mind tonight.

"I was giving them a dance. I don't know if you noticed, but the floor is completely full, so I brought them to a room," Whitney answers, walking over to Havoc in just a tiny one-piece, see-through number that clings to her curvy body, showing off the mirage of tattoos, her shimmering skin, and her perfect hard nipples poking through her pink top.

In her six-inch clear heels, she almost towers over him, slipping her arm around his waist for an obvious hug that he returns, refusing to let go of her as long as I'm standing here.

“I should have known you’d be the star of the show,” Havoc leers, his gaze roving over her body as if she's the only thing that matters in this moment.

I can feel my fists clench at my sides, the sight igniting a deeper flame of anger within me. I dig my nails into my palms, trying to suppress the urge to shove him away from her.

"It's all for the team, right?" Whitney laughs lightly, but there’s an edge to her voice that doesn't escape me. She’s playing the game, just like they've taught her.

“Uh-huh. Team player and all that bullshit,” Havoc replies, but his eyes narrow as he sizes me up, measuring my worth in this twisted hierarchy. “But Red here? He looks a bit too cozy for my liking.”

I take a step forward, ready to put an end to his insinuation. “You know what’s cozy? The way trust works between us,” I say with a controlled calmness, never breaking eye contact, feeding him some of the bullshit I was told last night.

Crow shifts uncomfortably, leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable, but I can sense the tension building. I glance back at Carter, who’s frozen, wide-eyed, caught between loyalty and the adrenaline pumping through him.

“13, you got anything to say?” Havoc’s voice cuts through, snapping Carter from his daze.

“Nah, man, just enjoying the show,” Carter mumbles, shaking his head as if to clear the fog. “All good here.”

"Good to know," Havoc mutters before returning his focus to me and Whitney. "But don’t get too chummy, Red. The last thing we need is another distraction. We’re gonna have company soon. We need to be on high alert.”

“Does that mean we should gather the others?” Crow interrupts, scratching his head.

“Gathering the crew means we stack the odds in our favor. We don’t know what we’re facing outside, but it isn’t just a friendly face looking for a dance,” Havoc replies. The calm before the storm settles ominously in the air, and my instincts scream at me for a plan.

“Let’s move,” I say, regarding the urgency of the situation. “We need to get everyone up and ready to defend the club. If we’re dealing with outsiders looking to cause chaos, we can’t leave anything to chance.”

“Wait!” Whitney interjects, her sharp eyes darting to Havoc, “If they’re coming for you guys, wouldn’t it be smarter to prepare an ambush? We can defend the club from the back entrance. It keeps you out of the line of fire and protects your strongest assets.”

Havoc raises his eyebrows at her suggestion, impressed yet skeptical. “And what makes you think we can trust you to lead us, little mischief?”

“I’m nobody’s damsel in distress,” Whitney shoots back with a fiery glint in her eyes. “I’m in your head, Havoc, whether you like it or not. Keeping the others from getting inside is the best bet for everyone. Plus,” she smirks, “don’t think I haven’t been practicing some new moves. You just might find I’m not only good for the stage.”

“Very clever,” Havoc admits, a hint of approval in his tone.

Before I can contest Whitney’s boldness, Carter surprises us all. "Alright then, I’ll gather the crew and alert everyone else to keep on guard.”

"No, Crow will do that. You stay with the girls and keep them safe,” Havoc tells him while pulling out his weapon and checking the load.

“Alright then,” he grumbles with an eye-roll. “I just don’t want to be the one left to explain if all hell breaks loose.”

There’s something cold about the way Havoc brushes off Carter’s concern, and I know that if I don’t act fast, I’ll lose my edge. Drawing closer to Whitney, I position myself behind her, using my body as a buffer against Havoc’s predatory gaze.

“Let’s move,” I reiterate sharply, as the rest of Masked Mayhem come storming down the corridor, the mounting tension drumming beneath my skin.

Time to split this group apart and gather the ones vulnerable to the brewing storm while keeping the combat-ready in the forefront. Suddenly, a loud bang echoes from the front entrance, shaking the dimly lit corridor.

“That’s the signal,” I spit out, my heartbeat echoing in my ears as adrenaline surges through me. “We need to treat this like a counter-assault; they’ll be looking for a weak point.”

“Let’s head for the back. You need to bulk up defenses on all entry points,” Whitney declares, her certainty igniting the flickering flames of resolve in our fight for survival.

“No! You’re not fucking going out there!” Havoc snaps, his possessiveness rearing its ugly head again.

“Dude, she’s the only one around here who hasn’t got a head full of nonsense. If we’re playing chess, I say we let her take the queen first. Besides,” I add slowly, meeting his gaze sternly. “She’s the hidden wildcard. She’ll maneuver better than anyone else.”

Havoc’s jaw tightens, but he nods reluctantly, the tension palpable. “Fine. But if I get word that you’re in danger, you better run, Little Mischief. This isn’t a fucking playroom. It’s life or death.”

“Got it,” she replies coolly, a knowing glint in her eyes, ninja-stealth mode activated.

The loud boom reverberates through the walls again, and my heart races as chaos seems to close in around me. With newfound urgency, we chat quickly, assigning tasks, creating a defensive strategy, and entrusting the one thing I’ve begun to quench my unquenchable thirst for: Whitney.

“Let’s roll!” I yell, adrenaline surging through me, channeling that with every ounce of my being as we divide into groups, heading toward the chaos.

But as soon as I take a step out of this corridor, I know the night is bound to change forever. The memory of Whitney still lingers on my skin, and I can feel her spirit woven through each decision we make moving forward. I just hope tonight, she doesn’t end up becoming a target in their game—the same game that had pulled us into this deadly mix of cops and robbers, darkness and danger.

Tonight, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.