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It hurt.
Not the wound, but my damn cock. Her gentle, innocent touch set my flesh on fire. It was more than I could handle—literally! I was a man who liked it rough sometimes, if that’s what the woman wanted. But the sweetness in her touch was driving me crazy on a totally different level. I wanted nothing more than to pull her down into the dirt and claim her in the middle of the day in a public garden.
What the hell was going on with me? Never before did I have such sinful thoughts over a woman.
Her eyes glanced up at mine.
She knows that I’m looking at her breasts! So why is she leaning in even more?
I had to stop this...right now.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” I said, pulling out from under her touch as I stepped back. It felt terrible losing the warmth of her skin on mine. Like some piece of me was now missing. But it had to be done. This was dangerous territory. I was a cop. She my lead. I was twice her age and knew how the birds and the bees worked. She had most likely no clue what kind of fire she was playing with, or what real sex felt like. How could she? Little pricks her age had barely just discovered that their dicks were good for more than going potty.
“I disagree,” she said, also taking a step back. Was that a hint of hurt in her voice? Did she feel rejected by my reaction? “I know an infected wound when I see one, animal or human. I work nights at the clinic. If you find yourself working a late shift and are in the neighborhood, you are welcome to stop by. I’ll clean it for you.”
She works nights!
Sloppy, sloppy cop work on that file. I would have wasted weeks if she hadn’t stopped by. Which,by the way,was a little suspicious. Why was she here?
“Thanks, I might.” I put my hands on my hips in a relaxed gesture. “So what brings you out here? You a gardener?”
Judging by her white dress that no sane gardener would ever wear around dirt, I already knew the answer to that.
“No. My brother and I are on the way to the cemetery, and I saw you when we were looking for parking.”
She nodded at the Eliot Burying Ground—the historic graveyard. Was she lying to hide the fact that her brother had followed me? Nobody was buried at Eliot these days.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be,” she smiled faintly. “My parents aren’t buried there, but we pretend they are so we have somewhere we can go to remember them. Better than nothing, right?”
That was a punch right in the gut. I felt horrible for her. From her file, I knew she had lost her parents young. Her mother ran off, and her father was an abusive prick who died when she was still a little girl. But to hear these words out loud from her own lips made me feel incredibly sad, just as I did when my own parents had passed away.
I wanted to caress her cheek with the backside of my hand, tell her that life can be a real pain, that I was there for her if she needed anything. But instead, I looked straight past her at the silver BMW now parked right in front of the wooden gate.
“Is that your brother?”
She nodded. “Yup.”
My whole body tensed. If the chief was right, then the man hiding behind those tinted windows was the man that had made fools of law enforcement for years. A killer. A sniper of the highest ranks among the mob.
Steady, Noah.
I redirected my gaze at her even though the primitive man in me wanted to thunder through the garden, break that window with my elbow, and pull that man out of this car. He was so close. So damn close!
But then what? Under what charges could I actually arrest him? If the man in the car was truly Eagle, I might not even make it one foot toward him without getting a bullet in my head.
I looked at Mila’s pretty eyes and seductive smile, which instantly pushed Eagle out of my mind. How could anything on this planet be so beautiful? Did she even have the slightest clue how pretty she was?
The urgent sound of a car horn made its way to us.
Mila turned to the BMW then back to me. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around?”
“Not till next week. I’m on dayshift until next Wednesday.”
She pinched her lips. Did that disappoint her as much as it disappointed me? But this operation had to stay professional. The man in that car was obviously already aware of me. She must’ve told him about our encounter at the vet’s office. Any new person entering her life was most likely under investigation of Andrei, no matter who that person was. From now on, every move on my end had to stay authentic and believable. A sudden ‘oh I have a nightshift tonight, see you in a bit’might cause suspicion.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you then,” she said, taking a step toward the car.
