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Sometime during it, I collapsed back into the wall. And I was still panting for breath when Andres moved away, stood up, shot me a devilish smirk as he wiped his thumb across his lower lip, then reached behind him to open the door, and disappeared on the other side.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered, yanking the front of my dress closed. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God,” I mumbled as I tried to yank up my panties while still holding my front closed.
I’d done a lot of… questionable things in my life.
But that?
That was the fucking biggest mistake I’d ever made.
I waited what felt like an hour before I emerged from the closet, then, checking for A, made a mad dash upstairs, grabbing my bag, then making my way back down, and rushing down the driveway.
Thankfully, the guards were likely getting themselves plates as well, so I could let myself out, and make my way down the road as I waited for my ride to scoop me up.
I had to go back.
Eventually.
But I had to put myself back together again.
And what better way to get my head in the game than to drop in at the office and endure the scrutiny from my coworkers?
CHAPTER TEN
A
I knew she’d jump ship.
That was her M.O.
A way for her to feel like she was getting the upper hand back.
I also knew she would bring her ass back eventually. She was too stubborn to make it seem like she was running away.
She’d likely even come back with some sort of excuse for being away. Like she didn’t run off because I got my fingers and face in that sweet pussy of hers.
It was stupid.
There was no guarantee that I was going to catch this fuck on Tuesday night. So there was a good chance she was still going to be walking her pretty, surly ass around my house for the coming days or weeks until I narrowed that shit down.
And sex, even just foreplay, complicated things.
Still, I couldn’t seem to make myself regret it.
Not even after the men filed home or off to their jobs, and I was left cleaning up the massive mess she’d left of the kitchen.
It was fine.
It wasn’t the first time I’d done dishes.
Besides, it gave me a chance to think some shit through about the shipment.
See, the thing was, when you trusted nobody, it meant you had to handle shit all on your own. Without anyone knowing what you were doing.
Because if anyone got tipped off about me being in the know about whatever was going on with the shipment, they would call it off, and I wouldn’t be able to get any information out of anyone.
As it was, all I could do was think about the schedules, about who I’d assigned to scoop up that shipment, who was on my short list of snake suspects.
It was a solid eight men, plus the fucks who were bringing the shipment in.
Which left me another question to ponder.
Was it just one guy?
Or was there a crew of traitors?
Multiple snakes that needed their heads chopped off?
“Fuck,” I hissed after trying to read the same page in my book six times.
It was useless.
My mind wasn’t gonna be quiet enough for reading.
Not until she came home.
The fuck?
No.
First, it wasn’t her home.
Second, no woman could ever steal my attention like that.
Making my way out of the library, I found Val sitting at the front door, huffing loudly.
“She’ll be back, man,” I told him, walking over to pat his head.
He gave me a tail wag, but only a small one. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be happy until Hope was back for him to follow around like a puppy.
What he was going to do with himself when the job was done and she was gone for good was anyone’s guess. I’d probably have to bring him to the vet to get on depression meds or some shit like that.
On a sigh, I took my own strange mood into the living room, going to the bar cart, and pouring myself a glass of scotch.
Then I paced.
And waited.
Pretended to work out the plan for the shipment.
Then paced and waited some more.
It wasn’t that I was worried about her. If there was ever a woman who could take care of herself in almost any situation, it was Hope.
I wasn’t a Navesink Bank native, but I’d made sure when I came to town to really dig deep and get to know everything I could about everyone.
So I knew her daddy was an arms-dealing biker. I knew her mom was a profiler. Her aunts, uncles, and cousins were bikers, hackers, bomb experts, martial arts trainers, and vigilantes.
She’d been raised in a family of strong, badass women who all made sure that the kids were raised up the same way.
From what I could tell, Hope had been doing pretty advanced mixed martial arts styles since she was in grade school. I was sure she still practiced so she could keep in shape and sharp for her job.
