Down the hall they walked. As they rounded the corner, Greystone ducked to avoid getting clunked on the head by a jutting pipe. His cousin stopped in front of a closed metal door.After inserting a key, he opened the door and flicked on a small table lamp.
The hole-in-the-wall office was the size of a closet.
“This is where I have meetings beyond what my current position includes. I work with Sinclair Develin and Luciano on projects that the Bureau and other law enforcement can’t touch.”
Greystone appreciated his candor. “Any chance the terrorists could get down here?”
“I don’t come down here every day, but I’ve never seen anyone except for the people I meet with.”
“So there are others beyond the two you mentioned?” Caroline asked.
“Yes, I have an off-the-books team who report to me,” he replied.
“Do you trust them?” Caroline asked.
“Yes,” Carrera replied.
Greystone regarded her. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
“People get turned. It would be impossible for us to vet every single employee and contractor at all these agencies.”
“You’re welcome to check out the hallways. Other than a giant-sized rat who runs around here, you should have the place to yourselves. You can’t get upstairs without me, so I’ll stay down here for as long as you need.” Carrera slapped Greystone on the back. “It’s good to have you home.”
“It’s good to be home.” Greystone started walking down the hall, but Caroline hadn’t budged. He walked backwards. “You wanna wait while I check it out?”
“I don’t like rats.”
“I’ll protect you.”
She scurried toward him, then wrapped soft fingers around his arm. Jolts of electricity shot through him. He glanced down at her. “I got you.”
He stopped in front of a random closed door. Tried thehandle. Unlocked. He pushed open the door. A janitor’s closet. He pulled out his phone’s flashlight, shone it in side. Several mice skittered out.
“Ewwwww.” Caroline backed away.
“What if our kids want a gerbil or robo hamster?”
Silence thundered in his ears.
What the fuck was that?
Greystone never said much, but that comment was as bad—no, worse—than her breakfast antics.
With a smug smile, she pulled the janitorial door shut. “They can have a dog, even a cat, but no rodents.”
“Word vomit,” he uttered.
“That was nothing compared with my F is for fun,” she murmured. “I definitely won the word vomit contest.”
He chuffed out a laugh before his gaze found hers. Beauty and mystery stared back. He was aroused, intrigued, and over-the-top interested in the woman by his side.
“We’vegotto get it together,” she said.
I gotta kiss her.
In one swift move, he barricaded her against the cinderblock wall, leaned his forearm on the wall, and kissed her. She threw her arms around him, dug her fingers into his hair, and ground against him, the kiss turning ferocious in seconds. Waves of desire pounded through him. His cock firmed, the urgent need to bury himself inside her hijacked his thoughts.
Panting, she continued thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She grabbed his ass and squeezed. Her throaty moan shot through him, and he placed his hands on both sides of her face to slow them down. If he didn’t, he’d fuck her in the middle of the deserted, bare-bulbed hallway.
