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)
Who knew confidence would be sexier than the skimpiest of lingerie?
“This all sounds really straightforward,” Jo said. She set her drink down on the coffee table, then leaned her side against the couch cushions. “Why couldn’t we have had this conversation down at the station?” Then she laughed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, stupid question. You guys hate the cops and probably would rather die than help us out, right?”
If only it were that simple. “I’m not gonna lie, Jo,” he said. “Giving the cops information to help the system take out Lobo goes against every instinct I have. I’d rather we sneak into his room and slit his throat in the night.”
Jo winced, but he didn’t soften his words. He was who he was, and that was an outlaw biker. She could kick his ass out—again—or arrest him at any time if her sense of legal obligation won out.
“So… why?” She shrugged.
“Because if anything happened to Saltano, Dante, or Lobo, Lock would be the first, last, and only suspect. Am I wrong?”
“No.” She shook her head with eyes full of sorrow. “You’re not wrong. Knowing this department, they wouldn’t even look at another suspect. Actually, they’d probably find a way to drag the entire club down for it.”
“Exactly.”
After blowing out a breath, she said, “Okay, this isn’t as bad as you might think. All I need to do is come up with a story for how I learned Saltano hangs at the Blue Gulf. Once we arrest him there, the interrogation should lead us straight to Dante and this Lobo character.”
And, shit, here’s where it got tricky.
“You’re not saying anything.” She rested her hand on his knee.
The meaningless touch, through his damn clothing on a totally non-sexual body part, nearly killed the ability to continue the conversation. Christ, he had it bad for this woman. Maybe they needed one more fuck to get it out of their system. A closure bang.
She groaned. “Dammit, there’s more, isn’t there?”
“There’s more.”
“Tell me.”
“When you pick up Saltano, you’ll find he’s a little… tarnished.”
“Tarnished.” Her eyebrows drew down, then winged up. “You guys beat the shit outta him, didn’t you? That’s how you got the information.”
He kept quiet.
“Dammit, Tracker.” She ran a hand through her loose hair, then stared up at the ceiling as though hoping for strength from above. When her gaze finally met his again, she asked, “Was it you?”
Again, he stayed quiet.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Just you? Wait…” She held up a hand. The one that had been on his knee. He immediately missed the small contact. “Don’t answer that. It’s better if I don’t know right now. Is there any chance he won’t rat you out?”
Tracker snorted. “He’s a bottom feeder who’ll latch onto anyone that will give him what he needs. You guys offer him protection, and he’ll sing like a bird.”
“So somehow, I need to leave him out of this.” Her eyes lit as though she had an idea. “Or I wait until he’s not beat to shit to bring this to my superiors.”
Tracker cleared his throat. “It’ll be a few weeks.” He could tell she wanted more details, like what exactly they’d done to the man, but she didn’t ask. The less she knew, the better at this point. Plausible deniability and all that.
“Right. So I wait?”
“Will the department continue investigating the club in the meantime?”
“Probably. So we need a plan. One that won’t land your tattooed ass in jail.”
He should keep his mouth shut, but he had to know. Maybe it was a test of her loyalty or merely morbid curiosity, but he couldn’t hold the words back. “You could do it, you know.”
She frowned. “Do what?”
“Arrest me for assault, then go pick up Saltano. It would solve all your problems.”
He held his breath as their gazes met. Hers softened so he could almost imagine her caring about him on a deeper, unfamiliar level. But that was crazy. Cops and outlaws didn’t form those types of connections.
“No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”
No explanation. No clarification. The air thickened as they stared at each other. So did his cock. He was painfully hard and aching to bury himself back inside her. Her pupils dilated and her breathing sped. Did she feel it too? The undeniable physical connection between them? Only physical. He refused to wonder if it was more because that route had disaster written all over it.
As the tension reached near boiling, her phone rang, jolting them both out of their trance.
Jo snatched it off the coffee table to look at the screen. “I’m sorry, this is my lieutenant. I need to take it.”
“Go ahead.”
“I won’t say anything,” she said as the ringtone continued to blare.
He nodded.
“Officer Baker,” she said by way of greeting. She quieted for a moment, then said, “Yes, sir, I’m on shift starting at seven tomorrow morning.” Her eyes grew wide. “What?” More silence. “I don’t understand how… no, sir.” She felt silent again.