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“I’ll expect you back sometime Friday. Just keep me updated. Only use Georgia’s phone, and turn yours off completely—again, we want nothing tied to here. If anyone asks why you’re there, tell them you’re her escorts from the US Marshals’ office. I’ve already told them she’d be arriving with two security personnel. But heads-up, you won’t be allowed to carry on-site.” Shade groaned and started cracking his knuckles one by one. Max snorted. “Yeah, something about them not wanting unknown armed men into a government building, assholes.”
I huffed and held out Shade’s keys between us, which Max took before dropping his into my open palm.
“Be careful. Don’t trust anyone. Get the shit done and come home.” I nodded. When he turned to Georgia, I stiffened, unsure what he’d say to her. “When you get back, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Someone important to me.” His face split into a wide smile. “Keep them out of trouble, okay?”
“I will,” she said, reaching out to grab Shade’s hand. “Do you really expect something to happen while we’re there?”
That smile on Max’s face vanished. “After an incident this fall, I learned to expect everything.”
I nudged Georgia’s side, drawing her attention. “Max had a witness get kidnapped while he was transporting her, and he was almost killed in the process.”
Her hand flew up to cover her gasp. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I’m better. Now.” And that damn smile was back. “You three need to get going. Oh, and Anne told me to tell you she and Grayson have everything under control with Grace and will send you updates while you’re gone.”
After helping us load everything into the back of the SUV and a quick goodbye, Max took off in Shade’s truck, no doubt breaking all the laws to get back home.
“Who’s covering the patrol shifts?” Georgia asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Our part-time guy, Kent Barkly. He’s taking the day shifts for the next few days.”
She giggled as she secured her seat belt.
“What?” I asked, my eyebrow raised.
“Just remembering how I thought it was so odd to have a part-time gay guy when I thought your jobs were to be gay influencers or something.”
Shade chuckled from the back seat and leaned forward, wrapping an arm around the seat, slipping his hand under her shirt and palming her breast. “Not gay.”
“Clearly,” she rasped, then gasped. “You can’t do that.” The words whimpered.
“And why is that?” I questioned darkly.
“You know why,” Georgia hissed.
“But Shade doesn’t. Tell him, sweetheart. Tell him why you’re already hot and bothered and anything else might tip you over the edge even without us teasing that tight pussy of yours.”
When she didn’t respond, Shade’s hand slipped higher to wrap lightly around her throat. At a stop sign, I twisted in the seat, showing her that we wouldn’t move until she fessed up to what we did before dropping Grace off at school.
“Trap put the plug in and told me I can’t take it out until we get where we’re going.”
Releasing her neck, Shade fell back against the seat, pressing his forearm against his eyes with a pain-filled groan.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
“Exactly. Now we’re all so fucking turned on we’re miserable,” I said with a smile, catching Shade’s narrow-eyed stare in the rearview. He knew I thrived on the anticipation and pushing until the mounting desire shifted to agony.
“I fucking hate you.”
Laughing like a madman, I hit the gas and started toward Houston.
More than ready to get there and play.
TWENTY
GEORGIA
The soles of my flats barely made a sound on the tile floor as we entered the Houston FBI office the following morning. The outside looked like a green glass monstrosity, the inside cold, or maybe that was just me. Gripping the edges of my coat, I pulled it tighter around me as we approached a woman sitting behind a large semicircle desk.
