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I step around him onto the elevator, making a mental note to pay him a visit later. He's a fucking bully and a coward. Maybe I'll let him live long enough to teach him how to speak to women. Or maybe I'll rip his goddamn throat out.
The elevator doors slide closed as Athena jabs the button for the third floor.
"Does Tackett treat you like that often?"
"Are you serious right now?" she hisses at the same time, whirling to face me. "You showed up at my office?"
"You're avoiding me."
"I've been busy," she lies.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"You managed to graduate from the FBI Academy, but you're a terrible liar."
"I'm not lying. I've been busy."
"Doing what?"
"My job, Diego." She rolls her eyes as if that should be obvious. "I don't see how you forgot about it considering you're currently in my building."
"Don't be a smart-ass, bella."
"Who, me? Never."
I smile, unable to help myself. "You're cute when you're pissed."
"Don't." Her warning reflects in her eyes.
I decide to heed it for the moment since we're on a public elevator. "You didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
"Does James Tackett treat you with such disrespect often?"
She snorts indelicately. "Tackett treats everyone with disrespect, Diego. He thinks this is his world and we just live in it."
"I see."
"What does that mean?" She narrows her eyes on me, suddenly suspicious. "And why are you asking?"
"Curiosity."
"Now who's lying?"
The elevator arrives on her floor, sparing me from responding. She shoots me another death glare and then marches off. Apparently, word has traveled ahead that I'm in the building because the entire floor has found an excuse to congregate around the receptionist's desk.
Athena mutters a curse under her breath when she sees everyone.
No one tries to say anything to me. No one even speaks to her. They just watch us parade past like we're goddamn bugs under a microscope. None of them seem particularly pleased that I'm here.
I scowl, beginning to put the pieces together. There's a reason this is Athena's first RICO case and she's working it alone. I'm guessing this is a trial by fire and they're praying she fails. It's a hell of a grim realization. Because my position has suddenly become uncomfortably untenable.
If she succeeds, Rafe will have no choice but to kill her to silence her. If she fails, these pricks get exactly what they want. One way or another, she loses.
I shouldn't care about that. I'm not supposed to care. And yet I do, goddamn it. I care all too much about this fiery little FBI agent and what happens to her. I've cared since she cornered me in the fucking parking garage like a ferocious little kitten.
She stomps into a small interview room, holding the door wide for me to enter.
I step through and glance around. It's little more than a closet. The only things inside are a table, three chairs, and an ancient coffee pot that's seen so much use the glass is permanently stained. A camera hangs in the corner.
So we aren't free to talk here. Fuck that.
"I'd like to record this interview," she says, closing the door behind her.
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice, Diego." She rolls her eyes.
"Is the camera on?"
"Yes, but it doesn't pick up audio unless you agree to let me record."
"Good. Turn it off, bella."
"I just told you it's not recording audio." She scowls, though we both know she isn't surprised. We also both know she only asked to record this meeting out of sheer desperation. She's terrified she won't be able to resist me if we're alone. Three days wasn't long enough for her to convince herself that the other day was a fluke.
"And I told you to turn it off." I meet her gaze. "Unless you want to explain to your bosses why you were wrapped in my arms while I was dry-humping you against the fucking wall. Your choice."
She stares at me for a full five count, trying to assess if I'm serious or not.
"One…"
"Infuriating, arrogant, pain in my…" she mutters, stomping toward the table. She slips her hand underneath the side, hitting what I'm guessing is a hidden control for the camera before she whirls around to face me again. "Happy now?"
I'm at her side in two steps, dragging her into my arms.
She doesn't try to stop me. She doesn't even tell me no. I boost her up into my arms, planting her back against the wall as I crash my mouth down on hers, stealing her breath. She tastes like peppermint and sin.
"Goddamn," I growl, grinding my dick against her hot little cunt as her hands sink into my hair, pulling hard. "You're trying to get yourself fucked right here, aren't you?"
"No," she lies.
"Liar." I bite her lip. "Did you dream about me, bella?"
"No. I haven't thought about you at all."
"No? I bet your panties tell a different story, Athena." I drag my lips across her cheek and then down her throat, not giving a fuck if anyone walks in and catches us. Let them. It'll solve my problems. "I smell how fucking hot you are for me right now."
