Undercover Cuckold {the.amorous.bunny&Naturan}

[the.amorous.bunny]

When Hannah Rossman had been tapped for the special task force to deal with what they were tentatively calling the "Spade Ring", she'd thought it meant they'd finally gotten the support they needed. She and Eli had been working their asses off gathering info and tracking down informants for fucking months. It had been Hannah's idea to even really start digging, though Eli certainly had been more than up for it. When their chief had told them to cool off, that they were getting in too hot or stirring too much, it had been Eli who'd gone over to the commissioner, leaking some info there and just a bit more online. They'd gotten the permission to go forward, and they were so close.

It did strike her as odd that the chief had suddenly tapped the two of them for undercover work. Not that they hadn't been trained in that. Fuck, Hannah had almost been a drama major back in College, before going all in with the academy training. Still, she could act better than your average cop, and probably would've done some community theater if their hours weren't utter shit (they hadn't exactly been the chief's favorite duo even before going over his head). But she wasn't someone regularly tapped for this sort of thing. For one thing, she was a woman, and while the force wasn't quite the boys' club it used to be, that didn't mean they didn't balk.

There was also just a bit of reality to that: women were a lot more likely to find themselves in dangerous situations. Most were physically weaker, after all, and didn't have training. Most weren't Hannah Rossman, who'd specialized in Krav Maga as a throwback to her Israeli heritage (grandparents), earning a high ranking. Plus she was a better than average shot; not the best in the Force or anything, but noticeable. So, yeah, she could handle herself. But there was still some concern

Supposedly that increased because of Hannah's looks. Oh, it wasn't that she was ugly or anything, not like most. Sure, most of the time she wore little to no makeup and tied her hair back in a tight bun, but that didn't make it any less obvious that her curves were almost ludicrous, looking at times more like a cartoon character than a real woman. "Child-bearing" hips ran in her family's bloodline; her mom had them too. The bust usually matched, and it actually irritated Hannah: no matter what she did, she couldn't get either part of her anatomy to shrink down to a more manageable size. It made her look chunkier than she actually was, not that Eli minded much.

So, yeah, it was weird when they'd finally tapped her. It got weirder still when they mentioned Jamal Adams. Hannah had heard about him, something about how he had a harem. Lot of those in the organization joked about it, saying they'd just love to be him, or teasingly suggesting that he'd earned it somehow. Supposedly he'd marked every girl in said group as "his" somehow. Rumors went further, suggesting he vastly preferred already taken women, particularly if they were white.

Cue Hannah, who hadn't even been married to Eli for a year. This did seem like their best lead, sure, but Hannah couldn't help but wonder if they weren't being set up or something. She'd done some research, and the marking pulled up some stuff that bordered on creepy. Supposedly it was about women only wanting to fuck black guys or something. She didn't know. All Hannah knew was that she wished she'd been allowed to carry a gun or even a more advanced wire. But nope, just a skimpy black dress and an earpiece. The fucking lace put Hannah's tits even more on display, and the dress was scandalously short. Hell, they'd even applied a bit more makeup than she would normally, even if she'd gotten some attention for being a hot "gunbunny" or some shit.

Now she was sitting in the VIP section of Jamal's usual hangout, supposedly all ready for the introduction or initiation or whatever the fuck it was called. She'd already ordered a drink and had even nervously started drinking, even if it was one of those stupidly sweet girly drinks instead of what she usually knocked back. Hannah shifted awkwardly, waiting, wishing she could act on her adrenaline, telling herself she'd just have to do this one thing to get closer. Then they could bring the whole organization down.

Jamal Adams was the lynch-pin, and Hannah Rossman was there to undo it all.

 

[Naturan]

The entire event had mystified and perplexed Eli about as much as it had Hannah. Ever since their last infraction with the higher-ups, the two hadn't had a serious case in a while. They were stuck on beats that Eli would normally list as beneath himself and his wife. Of course, they had to grin and bear it, something Eli was quite capable of doing, even if he thought it a serious waste of the duo's talents. Then they'd been given this detail, and it was both, a godsend and a mystery. On one hand, they were doing important, meaningful work. Exciting work, the kind of work most officers dreamed of doing when they first entered the academy.

Both he and Hannah found it suspicious. They were being rewarded so soon after butting heads with their C.O.'s? It didn't add up. But Eli also wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It sure as hell beat going back to desk work or traffic detail. The only person he knew would be more excited to be back in the field than him was Hannah, even if the job itself was...questionable. But it wasn't like they could just say no, anyway.

It made him uncomfortable, knowing that his wife was meant to be a honey pot for Jamal Adams. He didn't like it, not one bit, but it wasn't like they could say no, either. The idea of this guy, this...criminal, ogling his wife, potentially putting his hands on her, rubbed him the wrong way. It didn't sit well with him, but he trusted Hannah. In fact, his primary worry, if anything, would be that she would blow up on him. Now that was a real possibility.

He also wasn't allowed in the field alongside her, something that the two of them were accustomed to before the upset. She was undercover, and he was simply the tech support. Unless things went bad, he couldn't be out there with her as much as he liked. If she went too deep, he wouldn't be able to have her back right away. It was a frustrating thought, so he was prepared to make sure it would never get to that point. Not if he could help it. Right now, all he could do was watch from a distance, or worse, from the surveillance van like he was now. He couldn't see anything at this moment, but he could hear, and Hannah could hear him. Unfortunately, for a guy like him, getting into the VIP section of the club was nigh impossible.

That was when he walked in. Jamal Adams. Every detail in his file given to the two officers was spot on. He was a behemoth of a man, not just in height but in width. He towered over his entourage of women, one for each side to cling on. He was comfortably above six feet, with deep, chocolate skin and a lack of hair on his head, shaved off for simplicity's sake. He was heavy-set, with a bit of a belly to be sure, but there was no mistake to be made, his weight was made of more muscle than fat. Even his arms bulged with muscle as they were draped across the waists of the two women with him.

He came to this club frequently, often enjoying the fruits of his labor. Alcohol, dancing, music, the occasional bit of drugs, and perhaps even a chance to spot a beautiful woman. Most importantly, though, he was able to do business here, often uninterrupted. He had tight connections with the owner. If he wanted a private room, he got it, no questions asked. Tonight, however, he was not here for business. It was purely pleasure.

"Go get yourself a drink, girls." His arms unwrapped themselves from around their waists, and his large hands smacked against their rumps. Rather than an exasperated cry or even a fierce look, he was given a smile and giggles by the women. "Let the bartender know who you're with. It'll be on the house." He grunted.

As the women sauntered away, toward the bar, he took a look around the club, dark brown eyes surveying his surroundings, a hint of suspicion behind them. One did not get to the station he held by being a trusting person. That was when his eyes landed on the beautiful redhead in the dress, unable to move away from her. The suspicion behind his gaze gave wat to a hungry look, one that Hannah would be able to feel. It was an almost predatory look.

He approached her, and the people in his way moved to the side, making room for the large man to pass by. It wouldn't take him long to end up in front of Hannah, a confident but dangerous smirk gracing his lips as he looked down upon her, standing at her size. "I come here quite a bit, more than thrice a week, but I don't think I ain't ever seen you here before." He spoke, voice deep and loud, audible even over the smooth music of the club. "Love to see fresh blood in here."