Page 55 of Playing With Love

“I’m good like that,” Dylan quipped.

“More like illegal hacking takes less time than warrants,” Liza returned.

“There’s that, too.”

“I hate to say it,” Nick started. “Liza’s right, you’re going to have to push the murdered friend angle. Allyson will have to be the one to persuade Jessica. There’s nothing either of you can say to Jessica to convince her this is a good plan. It sucks, but you’re going to have to play on Allyson’s grief. Good news is, that play will eventually lead to Allyson getting safe and her friend getting justice, so as shitty as it’ll be, in the long run it won’t be unkind.”

Liza turned her attention to me. Sadness had already crept in. No part of meeting with Allyson was going to be easy.

“Will you call Allyson?” Liza asked. “See if we can come over now?”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll call her.”

Liza’s eyes narrowed, clearly not liking me calling her ‘baby’ in front of my team.

Too bad for her the squinty frown wasn’t a deterrent. I didn’t care what it said to my team. And I wasn’t hiding what she meant to me from anyone. She’d have to get used to it.

To tamp down the fire blazing in her eyes before it scorched the room, I reminded her, “You got a report in my office.”

My reminder did the opposite and the blaze ignited.

“I didn’t forget, Tucker.”

“Right. You gonna get that so I can make a call and we can get on the road?”

“Is me getting my report contingent on you calling Allyson?”

“No, but after we meet with Allyson, we won’t be coming back to the office. So if you want your report, I suggest you get it now.”

My declaration was met with the same panic I saw back at the hotel. Panic I didn’t understand, but I sure as fuck was going to get to the bottom of it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Fucking hell,” Tucker snarled as his lips disengaged from mine.

As for me, I whimpered my protest as he pulled his hand away from my breast and shifted to the side to snatch his ringing phone off his coffee table.

“Someone better be dying,” he muttered before he connected the call. “Yeah?”

Since he was mostly on top of me, I felt his body string tight. Tucker’s latest sex-induced fog started to lift, leaving me to contemplate my position and how I’d found myself on Tucker’s couch with Tucker on top of me. This was after he’d yanked me into his arms and kissed the ever-loving hell out of me. An effective maneuver he’d used to shut me up—one he’d also used in my hotel room.

That was, both times he’d been in my hotel room. The first being when he told me where he’d intended to take us. The second, when he took me back to pick up my suitcase and I argued—albeit feebly—about checking out of the hotel to stay with him. That kiss was rough and raw and lasted a really long time. So long, all the fight left my body. The same thing happened when we got back to Tucker’s place and his kiss from the hotel had worn off, leaving me in tip-top shape for another argument. And that was how I’d ended up on Tucker’s couch, with his hand on my breast, his tongue in my mouth, my hands exploring—one testing the firmness of his ass, the other combing through his soft hair, and me arching into his hand wanting more.

My contemplation ended when Tucker knifed up, taking me with him.

“We’ll be right there,” he said into his phone and pulled me to my feet.

The vestiges of fog vanished at the look on Tucker’s face.

“What’s—”

I didn’t finish my question before he tagged my hand and pulled me around the coffee table while speaking to the caller, “We’re fifteen minutes out.” Then he glanced down at me and asked, “Baby, where’s your gun?”

My gun?

What the hell?

“Is Allyson⁠—”