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)
Andrew had no clue what kind of men turned her crank. And scrawny? Tracker might not be a mountain of bulk like Jinx, but the man could never be described as scrawny. Andrew needed his eyes checked.
“You might want to get those peepers checked, my man.”
This time she couldn’t hold back her strangled laughter as Tracker voiced the exact words she’d been thinking.
She cleared her throat and adopted a professional tone. “We’re here because we have a warrant for Lock’s arrest. Can you please admit us?”
“Dayum. It is hawt when you use your authoritative cop voice. Think you might wanna swing back by later tonight to…”
“You really going to sexually harass an officer of the law right in front of my face?” Andrew practically snarled. “Again?”
Jo rolled her eyes. Her partner could barely stand to be in her presence, but the second one of the bikers said a word to her, she became his best friend, whom he couldn’t help but defend.
“Pretty sure it’s not harassment if she’s loving it.” Tracker winked at her.
She raised an eyebrow, to which he just shrugged and grinned an unrepentant smirk.
Andrew stepped closer. “We have a job to do. Get the fuck outta my way.” He got right in Tracker’s face.
As Jo reached for her partner to pull him back before Tracker gave in to the urge to punch him square in the face, her tattooed lover lifted his hands and stepped back.
“Come on in.” Tracker dropped his arms. “Waste of your time, though. Lock ain’t here.”
“Right. Sure, he’s not.” Andrew stepped through the door and into the clubhouse. His gaze immediately began scanning the empty space. “Never heard that one before.”
As Jo followed, Tracker stepped close and whispered in her ear, “Wasn’t kidding. Tonight, bring those cuffs. I have a feeling I’m going to do something to break the law.”
She sucked in a quiet breath as a shiver raced down her spine and straight to her pussy. Her glare did nothing to stop him from copping a quick feel of her ass while Andrew’s strode toward the bar. “Shut up,” she whispered so low she almost couldn’t hear herself. “Or I’ll cuff you to the bed and drive the hell away.”
“Feisty,” he whispered before mimicking a tiger’s purr.
“What?” Andrew whipped around. “You say something?”
“Nope.” Tracker straightened at the same time Jo took a long step away from him. “See? No Lock.”
“No, anyone. Where the fuck are your hoodlum friends?” Andrew sneered.
“It’s the middle of the day. People have fucking jobs.” Tracker spoke to Andrew as though speaking to a child.
“And you?”
“Mine’s flexible. Have a few hours before my next client.”
“Where’s your president? I know he doesn’t work.”
“He’s in his office.” Tracker pointed toward a closed door.
“Get him.”
With a quick two-finger salute, Tracker said, “Yes, sir!” Then jogged over to Curly’s office. “Yo, Prez,” he said as he knocked. “Cops are here looking for Lock.”
The door opened, and a wave of unease washed over her as Curly took his time ambling through it. Had he not given her his stamp of approval a few hours ago, she’d have fully believed the murderous expression was for her. For the first time since she met him, she saw the hardened man who’d survived more than a decade in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. She witnessed the harsh MC president who’d commanded a group of violent men before his arrest.
“Lock isn’t here,” he said, voice cold as ice.
“So I’ve heard.” Andrew settled his hand on the butt of his gun. His favorite intimidation tactic.
Jo rolled her eyes. If her partner thought that little display of power would intimidate a man like Curly, he was still swimming in the kiddie pool.
She walked forward until she could step around Andrew. Though she had a role to play here, she had to stay true to herself. Given the last few interactions with the club that were witnessed by Andrew, she might as well play it her way.
“Curly, I’m sorry, but protocol dictates we do a brief search of the premises for Lock. We do not have a warrant to search the grounds, so we will not be touching anything, but we do need to check all the rooms to ensure you are not harboring him.” She said the words with far less venom than Andrew and also sent a little plea into the universe that Curly not hold this against her. He knew, based on their earlier interaction, that she was only playing along, right?
His gaze shifted off her partner and square onto her.
She swallowed. Was that a flicker of amusement or had she imagined it?
“Prez?” Tracker asked when Curly didn’t speak.
“As long as nothing is disturbed, you’re free to look around for a man we’ve already told you isn’t here.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
Andrew scoffed as he turned away and strode toward the kitchen. She had no problem identifying that door. Tracker had kissed her stupid behind it not long ago.