Page 27 of Wild Night

After introducingCidney and Posey to one another, I turn to my desk and start working. I trust that Cidney has Posey under control. I wish there were a way to warn Cidney and to ask her to extract as much information as possible without being suspicious, but I know my cousin well enough to know that she would spill all the beans—every single one of them.

Cidney delivers a coffee about half an hour after I sit down to work. As much as I try to focus on the task at hand, which is to fully prepare for my first meeting, I can’t keep my thoughts from drifting to Posey.

She’s in this office, wearing that same sexy little skirt she had on sitting next to me in my car. I want to glide my fingers up the inside of her thigh, shift her panties to the side, and feel her warmth.

Shifting in my seat uncomfortably, I clear my throat before I reach for my mug of coffee. Closing my eyes, I take a sip as I try to think about anything else other than her sweet cunt. I fucking fail until I get a notification for a new text on my phone.

I look at the screen to unlock it with Face ID, then I open the messaging app. There’s a new message from Piggy, which surprises me. I know he’s been looking around, doing some digging, but I didn’t expect him to get back to me so quickly.

PIGGY: Lucian isn’t just a ghost. I think he’s undercover.

My entire body jerks. I stare at the screen, unable to do anything. My fingers are frozen, my eyes reading the two simple sentences over and over carefully, wondering if I’m misreading them and, at the same time, knowing I’m not.

What the fuck do we do about this? ATF?

I’m not sure how else to respond. Honest to fuck, I don’t know what to say. I have no clue what the fuck we’re supposed to do. I don’t think I’ve felt this helplessness, this complete loss of control, that I do right now, ever in my life.

PIGGY: I don’t think it is. I don’t know what the fuck he’s under for, but that’s what I’m gathering.

Fuck.

There is a knock on my door, and I know I have to abandon the conversation for work. “Mr. Whitaker,” my cousin murmurs as she opens the door.

She peeks her head around the door, her eyes finding mine. I always get a kick out of her calling me Mr. Whitaker. It’s fucking funny, especially since I remember the day she was born.

“Yes?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything immediately.

“Mr. Scott is here for your nine o’clock meeting,” she says.

“Everything good with Posey?”

I can’t just ignore the fact that she’s here. I can’t keep her off my fucking mind. I can’t stop thinking about her body, her pussy, every fucking part of her. I want her on my desk, against the wall next to my favorite painting. I want her every-fucking-where. On every goddamn surface I can think of to fuck her on.

“I really like her,” Cidney whispers. “I think she’s awesome.”

Without another word, my cousin turns her back and leaves my office. A few seconds later, my nine o’clock client appears, and we get to work. He’s been accused of embezzlement. I typically prefer more intense cases than this, mainly because they can hold my attention a bit better than simplistic white-collar crimes, but this is a high-profile client, and he is paying in cash.

So whatever the fuck he wants me to represent him for, that’s what I’ll do. But at the same time, he’s definitely not getting the attention he deserves because all I can think about is Posey’s cunt.

POSEY

“He’s going to be a while,” Cidney announces as I watch a man in a three-piece suit enter Ivy’s office and close the door behind him. Shifting my attention back to her, I give her a small smile. “Let’s go to the bakery.”

I start to ask her if it’s okay. I mean, I know she has to work, so I can’t imagine she can just pop over to a bakery just because. She gives me a wink, then I watch as she opens the bottom drawer of her desk and tugs out her purse.

“I know the boss. I can do what I want, babe,” she states.

Cidney is gorgeous. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the whole nine yards when it comes to the standard of beauty. Boobs, butt, tinywaist. Everything. A complete knockout. She’s young, too, and so far seems really sweet. If she weren’t Ivy’s cousin, I would be supremely jealous of her existence, let alone the fact that she’s his only employee.

“I just need to pop into John’s office and ask him if he wants anything. But I already know he’s going to want something.”

John Gentry, the other name on the sign outside. I haven’t met him yet, but I did see the back of him as he walked to his side of the building and closed the door to his office behind him.

I watch as Cidney walks toward John’s office, then knocks on the door before she slips her head inside. I can hear their mumbled voices, then she laughs before she straightens, closes the door, and makes her way back to me wearing a smile.

“He definitely wants some snacks. Let’s go.”

I’m not sure who is supposed to answer the phones while we’re gone, but nobody else seems to be concerned, so I decide I won’t be, either. Following behind her, I expect to go toward the parking lot and climb into her car, but instead, she turns in the opposite direction of the car, and we walk down the sidewalk.

---