Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Trouble. Just, fucking trouble.
I was fucking hard for her all over again, and she was back to gnawing on that bottom lip of hers.
Her hands were clenched in her lap, wringing together, just like on the subway, but I was glad to see there weren’t handcuffs on her.
I paused just inside the door.
In two seconds, I’d be spotted and my ex–booty call would be notified. I’d turned in my resignation. Those who knew me knew I wasn’t a cop anymore. News got around because not only was my own flesh and blood mobbed up, not only was I one of the many dozens of cops who was also on payroll for another Mafia family in this area, a different mob, but the irony of all ironies was that they assigned me to organized crime. Seeing this woman sitting there, feeling the way my body wanted to go over and put a claim on her, fury swept through me. I was not a good man. I wasn’t. That was the plain fucking truth. I was all the way bad. Grew up bad. Continued being bad. My reasons might’ve been good, but there was no way around the fact that I had no place to go over, introduce myself to that woman, and see how she’d feel about putting those lips around my dick instead.
Course, I wouldn’t go there first. I’d be respectful. Ask her for a cup of coffee first.
Jesus.
I was going for her without even realizing it myself.
Two steps.
Three.
I was nearing her.
She lifted her gaze.
Clocked me, her eyes widening.
Confusion swirled in their depths.
She frowned a little, and again, sank those teeth down in that lip of hers.
I almost groaned out loud.
“Worthing.” A smooth feminine voice—one that I used to love, the rasp from her when I’d been dick-deep in her, but now it grated on my nerves—called out from behind me.
Chatter around the front of the station quieted.
That was because of me. I was assuming more people had heard about my resignation.
The woman from the subway continued to stare at me, her eyes narrowing, and then recognition flared. Her mouth opened, gaping a little. A small bit of panic flashed too.
I winced, not really liking seeing that reaction, but I was forced to turn my head as my ex was walking toward me.
I shifted back a step. “Brant.”
Laila’s face tightened, slowing in her step just a bit before she steeled herself and continued until she was at my side. She knew how to stand and position herself. Laila Brant could wear an Easter Bunny costume and still come off seductive. I knew how she did, but I wasn’t giving her that attention. My eyes stayed on her face, so I caught how her mouth flattened briefly before it kicked up in a slow smile. “Retired life must suit you. You look good.”
I narrowed my eyes, cocking my head to the side. “Funny. I don’t hear the dulcet tones of my cousin. What? She pass out in a cell back there?”
Laila’s smile shifted to a genuine grin before we both heard what I knew was missing.
“—the meaning of this! I know people, you know. Do you know who I am? Who my family is? I can make one call and I’ll have your badge. I’ll have all of your badges—” Her screech got louder as she was brought out from the back.
I shifted on my feet in time to see my cousin being led through the door that separated the holding cells from this main area. Another cop in uniform was bringing her out, and as soon as he saw Laila, he looked relieved, fitting his key to my cousin’s cuffs.
My cousin swung her wild gaze around until her eyes landed on me. They went wide and she almost stumbled over her giant-ass high-heeled boots, trying to get to me. “Jake! Jakie! Jake!”
I growled. “Shut the fuck up, Viv.”
She did, clamping her mouth shut before her body wavered backward.
Laila shouted, a hand shooting out at the same time.
My cousin started to fall.
The uniformed cop caught her, panic fleeting over his face before he swung that still-panicked gaze toward Laila. “I didn’t—she was going to fall on her own.”
Laila went over, waving him off. “Don’t worry, Officer Porath. You can go back to your other duties. I got her from here.”
He eyed my cousin, looking relieved as he could step away. “We’re releasing her?”
Laila took Viv’s arm, drawing her from him. “We got it handled.” She indicated me and his gaze trailed over. Recognition flared over his face, having him snap to his fullest height, his back going straight. “Detective Worthing—err . . .” His frown was fierce.
Laila grinned, bringing my cousin toward me. “It’s just Mr. Worthing now, I believe.” Her eyes found mine, a hint of something deeper appearing. “Or is it Don?”