Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” she said as she reached him. “Appreciate it.”
He handed it over with a wink. “My pleasure.”
An eye roll was all he received in return. He couldn’t help but drop his gaze to her ass as she stood in front of him, unlocking her door. Damn, that thing should have a big ole warning stamped right across it. One glance will cause men to lose their brains.
“Come on in.” She strode into her house and straight to the kitchen.
Helpless to do anything else, he followed. And yes, his eyes remained glued to that stellar ass encased in those ass-cheek-hugging denim shorts. God bless whoever created that erection-inducing item of clothing.
“Were you staring at my ass?”
Tracker blinked. Busted. Damn, he’d zoned right out, lost in that gorgeous backside. They stood in her kitchen. Jo held her drink in one hand and a package of Oreos in the other. “Sure am. You got a problem with that?”
She tilted her head and pursed her lips which had his fantasies switching from palming her ass to seeing those sexy lips wrapped around his cock. Christ, she had his head fucked up.
“No, I guess I don’t. Cookie?”
His jaw dropped as he stared at the open bag of Oreos. Had she just said she didn’t mind him ogling her? “Wha…” He shook his head. “I…”
Jo’s lips twitched.
“Gimme the damn cookies.” He snatched the package from her as she started to laugh. Of course, she enjoyed keeping him on his toes. She just might be the perfect woman for him.
Or she would be if she wasn’t a cop. And he wasn’t in an MC. And he hadn’t tried to use her for information. And he wasn’t about to confess to a crime she’d be well within her right to arrest him for.
Fuck.
“Your face just got really serious all of a sudden.”
He reached in and pulled out a few Oreos before handing the bag back. “Yeah. I’d give my left nut to stand here all day pretending we’re not flirting, but I do have some shit I gotta talk to you about.”
She paused with a cookie halfway to her mouth. “Am I going to like this conversation?”
He let out a half laugh, half snort. “No.”
A heavy sigh accompanied her nod. “Well, all right then. Let’s have a seat. Table or couch?”
“Couch.” Not only was it more comfortable, but he’d be able to sit closer to her. Maybe even touch her.
“You know the way.” She trailed him back into her living room. “You’re not about to confess to murder, are you?” she asked as they sat facing each other on the couch.
Their knees bumped, and the simple, innocent touch sent a bolt of lightning straight to his balls. The woman had no idea the power she held over him. She could lead him around by the short hairs all day if she wanted.
“Oh, my God,” she said, staring at him, wide-eyed. “I was trying to ease the tension with a joke, but now you’re scaring the shit outta me. Please tell me you’re not about to confess to murder.”
“I’m not about to confess to murder.”
“Oh, thank Christ.” The words came out in a rush of air.
“I know where Lock’s sister got the drugs.”
She frowned. “You found that Salt guy? Is he the one who sold them to her? We’ve been having a hard time tracking him down.”
Nodding, Tracker said. “We did. He hangs out at a shitty bar called the Blue Gulf.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Like I said, it’s a shithole.”
“So what’s the problem? Is he a friend of Lock’s or something?”
“No. He’s low-level. Didn’t know the shit he sold was tainted. He gets his supply from a guy named Dante, who is a direct minion of Lobo.”
Jo frowned. “Lobo. I’ve been hearing that name a lot.”
“I’m sure you have. He’s relatively new in town. Has quite the hard-on for Curly. Dante and a few of Lobo’s other henchmen used to be in a club with Curly before he went to prison. None of them stayed in touch or tried to help him get free. When he came back to town last year with shiny new pockets lined with the settlement money, these assholes came crawling out of their caves thinking they should be automatically patched with the Handlers. Curly wanted no part of his past, so he told them all to fuck off.”
“Hmm… I’m guessing they didn’t take that news too well.”
Tracker grunted. “No, they did not. They all joined up with Lobo, who once again tried to get in with Curly. He wanted the Handlers to deal for him. Curly told him to fuck off again.”
“So, what is this? Some kind of low-level gang war you guys have going on?”
“It’s not that bad. Yet.”
“Great.” Jo shoved an entire Oreo in her mouth. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Tracker chuckled. She didn’t put on any airs around him, and it was the most refreshing thing he’d ever experienced with a woman. If she wanted ten cookies, she’d shove ten cookies in her face while sitting there makeup free and not give one flying fuck what he thought of her.