Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
He shoved that vision out of his head.
Focus, asshole.
He turned. “I’m approving for you to go undercover to make a buy. One. And if you do that successfully, I’ll consider you to do more.”
She smiled.
He scowled.
So much for getting Williams to remove her from his team.
Weak motherfucker.
He yanked the door open, strode through the house and back out of it as fast as he could.
Otherwise, he was going to turn around, grab her, throw her over his shoulder and toss her onto Fletch’s bed, then fuck the hell out of her.
Until they couldn’t think straight.
Until they were exhausted and sweaty.
Until they were both satisfied.
He didn’t slow down. Not when he got to his bike, not when he threw his leg over it, or when he strapped on his half-helmet.
He rode the hell out of there like the devil himself was chasing him.
Chapter Ten
Of course he had left her no instructions.
Not where to do the buy. Not how much to buy.
He didn’t even leave any federal money for her to do the buy.
Even though he was on days-off, she tried texting him.
A few times.
Enough times to be a menace.
But still… he ignored each and every one of her texts.
So, her first night back to work, she went and did surveillance again at Landry’s Laundry.
By the end of the night, she was ready to give Crew what he wanted by quitting because it was so damn boring.
But fuck that, she’d never quit.
No way would she let him win.
He wanted her to leave, not because he didn’t think she could do the job. Not because of who her father was.
Because he wanted her.
And he didn’t want to want her.
Just like she didn’t want to want him.
But, Christ, she did.
They were doomed.
Because that kiss between them by the pool had been fire.
His erection proof of how much he liked locking lips with her.
The soaked crotch of her bathing suit proof of what an expert kisser he was. So good that he caused a wetness that had nothing to do with pool water.
So yes, it was a problem.
Because he was a dick.
And she didn’t do dicks. The people, not the appendages.
It was late when she pulled into the back lot of The Plant to pick up the sedan. She wasn’t heading to the laundromat tonight. She had other plans, instead.
If Senior Special Agent Colin Crew didn’t like it, too bad. He had plenty of opportunity to respond to her texts.
She might not have any money to make a buy, but she could at least scope out the Hawg Wild Saloon. She could rub elbows with some bikers. Make conversation. Drop some hints about her interest in buying meth.
Then she could write her daily report tomorrow morning and see how long it took him to notice where she had spent her night. When he returned to The Plant, she could confront him about teasing her with the idea of her doing a buy and then leaving her hanging like a flag without a breeze.
The rear lot behind The Plant was just as she expected—mostly empty—since no more than two team members worked overnight. One would monitor and transcribe wiretaps and sometimes someone would monitor the cameras.
But what she hadn’t expected was a familiar Harley parked in one of the spots.
She couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure it was their dear leader since she wasn’t a pro at identifying motorcycles. If it was, had something happened with the task force for him to come in on his day off? If so, she hoped it wasn’t anything bad.
She needed to head upstairs to grab the key for the sedan anyway, so she might as well check to make sure everyone was all right before she headed out.
Just as she was turning the corner to take the covered exterior steps up to the third floor, the side door banged open and the man himself came barreling out, startling the shit out of her when he almost slammed into her.
She slapped a hand to her heart to press it back into her chest. Holy shit.
She did her best to sound unaffected when she asked, “What’s going on?”
He stopped short and looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “What do you mean?”
She flipped a hand out, and explained, “You’re here late.”
His brow furrowed. “So are you.”
“I’m working. You’re supposed to be off.”
“I wasn’t working. This is the BAMC’s clubhouse, remember? We were hanging out and…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I was doing. Everyone else left and I figured I’d run upstairs and check on the guys before heading home.”
Damn, maybe he wasn’t such a dick. Maybe he had a caring and protective nature about him.
Oh hell, she’d rather continue to think of him as a dick. It was safer for her.
His brow dropped even lower. “What are you doing?”