Page 11 of A Dirty Business
I gave him a look. “You have millions. You can afford a car service.”
He snorted, taking out some cash and throwing a wad of it on the table. “Yeah, but you have entire drivers at your disposal, and I’m here for you tonight. Trust and believe I’m going to be grilling Ashton on why I’m here and not him.” He began to turn away when he nodded to the cash. “I gotta piss. Next round is on me.”
I pulled my phone out and sent off a text.
Trace:Eric’s curious what’s going on. Don’t say a word to him.
We’d all been fraternity brothers in college, and while I shared that history with Eric, he wasn’t in the same world Ashton and I both were.Eric only knew about Wall Street. He knew that life, not the one Ashton and I kept hidden, and me asking him to meet me at a bowling alley was not in the realm of nightclubs and cocktail lounges that we usually frequented.
Ashton:Fucking duh, man.
I laughed, a dry one, but that cut out as soon assheslid into Eric’s abandoned side.
I grinned, slow and steady. “Finally.”
My god, she was beautiful. Her hair had been hanging free and loose when she’d first walked in, but it was now put up in a braid, perhaps to match one of her bowling companions. Either way, her skin was glowing, her lips a little fuller than what I’d remembered, but she was seething.
Her hands clasped together, and she rested her elbows on the table, leaning toward me. “What do you want?” Her words were clipped.
I picked up my drink, swished the liquid around as I slowly leaned in to match her posture. I breathed out the word right before I took a sip. “You.”
I did not miss how her chest rose. She sucked in some oxygen, but her eyes flickered. There was a wildness there, a brief second before she slammed a wall down and shot back in the seat. “Thought you couldn’t stand me. I’m a cop.”
“You’re a parole officer. There’s a difference.” My tone was bored, but I was anythingbutthat. I was invigorated. “I’m also aware you’ve been doing your job for years, and you’re quite good at it.”
She was glaring at me, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Or she didn’t want to. “How do you know that?”
I lowered my head, my eyes never moving from hers. “I hired a PI. For being a PO, you’re not perceptive about a guy following you.”
Her nostrils flared. “I met you three nights ago.”
“Exactly.”
“You got all of that in three days?”
“Two, actually, but he’s updating the file each day. I’m enjoying every tidbit he’s finding out about you.”
“Stop it.” She jerked forward, but I loved it. It only brought her closer, and my gaze went to her mouth.
Those lips. Those very full lips that I hadn’t tasted. Not yet.
My dick was trying to tunnel its way out of my pants.
“No.” I whispered those words, loving how they produced that wildness back in her gaze, just for a moment.
I wanted more of that.
I wanted to be the one to let that person loose, whoever she was inside.
“I have a case for harassment here.”
I chuckled, leaning back, but I held my glass in the air between us. “Try it. It’s my foreplay.”
That wild look came back, and it was staying longer each time it did.
I started to wonder what she would do if I got her to stay longer. What did I need to do to make that happen?
“I don’t even know your name.”
