Perception by Kaithlin Shepherd

Perception Š 2016 by Kaithlin Shepherd All rights reserved. No part of this e-book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

Perception is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing. www.hottreepublishing.com Editing & Formatting: Hot Tree Editing Cover Designer: Claire Smith ISBN (eCopy Edition): 978-1-925448-12-2

Warning: This book contains some violence, strong language, and sexual content. Reading is recommended for those over 18 years of age.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dedication

To my man for showing me what fighting for a relationship means

Chapter One

Annabelle I don't consider myself a high-maintenance person. Hell, on most days, the only things I need are coffee and a good pair of jeans. There aren't a lot of things that I can't handle, but my best friends would probably say I shy away from situations I can't control. In a way, I can't argue that they're wrong; but if I really were that girl who avoided situations she couldn't control, I would have walked away from Connor Evans the first time I met him, almost fifteen years ago. If I'd had any sense of self-preservation, I would have locked down my heart the first time he broke it and moved on to someone who wasn't so fucked-up, but I love the asshole. I know that deep down, in that battered heart of his, he loves me.

The last year has been marked with more traumas than any of us care to think about. Savannah got kidnapped and shot, barely surviving; Connor and Noah were held captive in Colombia by a deranged drug lord; Noah killed a man out of pure anger; houses were blown up; people were shot at more times than I care to think about; and they discovered a corrupt district attorney.

But today, looking around the lake house, you couldn't tell.

The lake house has been our safe house for as long as I can remember. Almost every memory I have of being happy happened here, so no one was surprised when Noah and Savannah announced they were getting married here. It's the place Savannah first fell in love with Noah when she was just a little girl; it's the place they first shared a moment as something more than just friends; and it's the place Savannah took a bullet to save Noah's life.

Looking around the backyard, I smile at how beautiful and happy Savannah looks, and even though I should be happy for her, every time I see Connor with the blonde Barbie on his arm, I want to kick and scream.

I still can't believe he brought a stranger to his best friend's wedding. No matter how many looks I give the girls, silently telling them that I'm all right, they all know I'm really not. But this is Savannah's big day and I won't ruin it by showing Connor that he gets to me.

It's not just the fact that his date is a stranger who looks like she just stepped out of a Barbie case or just finished playing with one. It's that she's exactly what I'm not. She's blonde. I'm a redhead. She's a size zero, and, well, I've got some curves, and her skin is porcelain while mine is covered with tattoos.

"Annabelle." Just the sound of his voice sends chills down my arms. I don't even have to turn around to know

it's Connor. I hate how he always sneaks up on me. A man his size should not be able to sneak up on people.

I take a deep breath before turning around, hoping he can't read the emotions crawling all over my face.

"Connor, you're letting your date wander unaccompanied? Aren't you worried about child services?" I try to sound as unaffected as possible but I know he's not buying it. Why the man has to look so damn good is beyond me. He opted for black jeans that showcase his strong thighs, a white button-down shirt that shows off some of the ink on his chest with a black suit jacket that molds his arms like a second glove. The man's body is the stuff of fantasy.

He laughs and if I weren’t already fuming with anger already… that does it. He takes a few steps closer until he's standing so close to me, I can smell his aftershave. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"You wouldn't know jealousy if it hit you in the face, Connor." I shove him, but of course, the man who's built like a brick wall doesn't move an inch.

That's the other thing about Connor; if he were ugly, it would make getting over him so much easier, but God, he is the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on. His dark brown hair is just long enough for a woman to hold on to, and his green eyes…. God, I lose my train of thought every time I stare into them.

"So you're not clenching your fists because you're pissed I have a date?" I unclench my hands, trying desperately not to shove him into the pool, because this

is Noah and Savannah's big day, but I want to knock the smirk right off his face.

Standing my ground against Connor is always a challenge. He has this ability to rattle me, but today I choose to hold my ground because he's right. I am pissed. "Why would I be mad that you brought a date to a family event?"

He leans in to me, his mouth so close to my ear that his breath against my earlobe sends shivers down my body. Damn him for knowing how to get to me. "Is that what we are, Belle, family?" I want to smack the cockiness right off his face, but I'm pretty sure Savannah wouldn't be happy about me smacking her husband's best man on their wedding day.

Plus, it feels like we've been arguing and fighting forever and I am so tired that I don't have much fight left in me when it comes to him. "Connor, can you just not do this today?"

"Just admit that it bothers you." That's the other thing about Connor; he does these kinds of things because he knows they get to me. It's like he's addicted to getting a rise out of me, and like the lovesick fool that I am, I give him exactly what he wants every‌ single‌ time.

But today, I push back. "You're an asshole, Connor, and you know it bothers me. That's why you did it.

That's why you picked a date who's only here because you look like the bad boy she never got the chance to fuck in high school." I can't believe I said all of that. I

know I've shocked him, because his body language changes and he goes from charmer to oozing sex in seconds.

He wraps a hand behind my neck and I am so shocked by his touch that I just stand there, unable to move. Whimpering when his hold tightens, I see something pass in his eyes, something dark, something that makes me want to submit. Just as fast as it appeared, it's gone. "Did you fuck the bad boy in high school, Belle?"

He licks his bottom lip, and God, what I wouldn't give to taste him just once. I meet his eyes and notice the smirk on his face as I haven't answered his question.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I tell him, tilting my head to the side, fighting the urge to lean just a little bit closer to inhale his scent.

"Baby, I don't need you to say the words. It's written all over your face." His words shouldn't set me off, but hearing him call me baby, combined with watching his date strut her stuff in our direction, it breaks the dam. I knock his hand off my arm and back away from his hold on my neck.

I try not to make too much of the pain and confusion on his face, because I know that if I don't walk away now, I might not recover from whatever happens next. "Don't call me Belle. Don't call me baby‌. Do not touch me, Connor." I walk away from him, blocking the sound of him calling my name, because for the first time,

I hate the person that my love for him has turned me into. * * * * Connor I am a fucked-up asshole. There's no denying that and most of the time I don't care, but seeing the look on Annabelle's face when she saw me walk in with Alexis is going to haunt me for years to come. For ten years, Annabelle has been all I can think about and every woman in my bed has been the complete opposite of her, because I know that one taste would never be enough.

Guys like me, we're not built for a white-picket-fence romance. Shit, I don't even deserve to be on the other end of that kind of love. Annabelle is that one constant in my life, apart from Noah, Logan, and Blake, that I couldn't stand to lose.

Watching her walk away from me pains me in a way I didn't think was possible. Looking at her sway her gorgeous ass as she walks to the house makes me think about all kinds of things I have no fucking right to think about with her. Her body was made for me. It was made for me to bring her pleasure like she's never known, and that's why I have to stay away from her. There is no way I will ever let my demons anywhere close to her. That gorgeous red hair and that ink would look fucking beautiful spread out on my black sheets, and I know we

wouldn't leave my bed for days just by the way her body responds to me.

Working for the DEA is my whole life; it's what gave me purpose when I thought I didn't have anything else. But the risks associated with what Noah and I choose to do for a living are too high to let Annabelle in.

Fuck, she's already been through my hell when I got kidnapped in Mexico, and I'll never forget the look on her face when Noah and I stepped off that plane from Colombia. I don't have it in me to be the one responsible for creating that constant worry in the pit of her stomach every time I leave the house. The fucking irony is that every time she leaves the house, every time she gets assigned a new case, I get that same fear that something bad is going to happen to her, and I know I would lay down my life to protect her because in my own fuckedup way, I love her.

"Want to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?" I turn around when I hear Noah behind me, and judging by the irritation in my best friend's voice, he's not happy with me. I can't blame him.

"I thought we agreed that list was a mile long." I lean back against the pillar and watch as he tries to assess me. After almost twenty years, I know it won't take him long to figure things out. Hell, he probably figured it out the second he saw me with Alexis.

"How about we start with why you brought a stranger to my wedding?" Noah's wedding. Shit, I still can't believe he finally made Savannah his permanently.

"It's the best time to get laid?" I know my reply is weak, and that he isn't buying whatever I'm trying to sell him. But it's also not a conversation I want to have with him, especially on his wedding day.

If this were a cartoon, I'd be seeing smoke come out of Noah's ears. His face is hard with anger, and if it weren't for his view of Savannah, he would punch the hell out of me. "Drop the fucking act, Connor. You're not fooling anyone here, least of all me. What the hell were you thinking?"

Running my hands through my hair, I let my eyes travel to Alexis, who is flirting with Logan. The realization of how wrong it was to bring her here hits me, especially when I see Zoe sending daggers her way.

Logan smiles and it hits me what a bunch of fucked-up idiots we all are. "I don't fucking know, all right. I thought if I brought a date it would piss her off, and it did, okay?"

Noah shakes his head and then he says the one thing I hoped he would never notice, which in retrospect was a stupid expectation. "You could have chosen someone who didn't look like the opposite of the woman you're in love with, man." He points to Alexis and then to Annabelle.

I can't deny that he's right, but I'm not about to admit that. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look at her, man. None of us would ever date the Barbie type, yet that's what you show up here with. The complete opposite of Annabelle. You think she didn't

catch on to that? She takes a lot of your crap man, and God knows she deserves a fucking medal for that, but one day, she'll have enough." I know Noah is right.

Annabelle is fucking gorgeous, with curves that make my hands itch to touch and make my cock so fucking hard it hurts, while Alexis is a beautiful blonde with a killer body who doesn't even get my motor running half as fast as Annabelle does.

"I don't know what to do about her anymore. I hate hurting her like this. I know she deserves better than this," I tell him honestly, because fighting and denying my feelings for the redhead in every single one of my fantasies is exhausting.

"How about telling her the truth for once?" Not a lot of people know about my childhood, and even less people know about all the shit I've done wearing my badge. Those kinds of things, the things that allow a darkness you didn't even know was possible to crawl into your soul, change a man.

"I don't know if I can go there." It's funny to think that I've known Annabelle for more than a decade and there is still this huge part of me that she doesn't know anything about. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that letting her in would be for the best, I can never seem to find the courage to do it.

"Let me tell you this, man: if you don't get your head out of your ass and stop stringing her along, you'll lose her for good."

The idea of not having her in my life hurts more than any bullet wound, but maybe it would be for the best. Only, I know I could never let her walk out of my life, no matter how much of an asshole that makes me.

"She's better off without me anyway. She deserves a white picket fence, and I can't give her that."

"Are you sure about that? 'Cause she sure as hell doesn't seem to think so."

Maybe she just doesn't know what's best for her.

When I look at her, she's staring right at me and holds my gaze for what seems like an eternity, as if she's trying to decide something, before she turns around and disappears into the lake house. I can't shake the feeling that Noah is right; if I don't do something, I will lose her. * * * * Annabelle Sitting at the kitchen table where the eight of us have had so many meals over the years isn't helping me get a grip on all the feelings Connor has managed to unleash.

So many memories were made around this table: when we all got our letters of acceptance into NYU, we all sat around this table to open them together; when Noah and Connor announced they were joining the DEA, we all held our breaths sitting around this table; when Zoe got kidnapped, we all watched Logan lose it at this table. It's

funny how one piece of furniture can hold so many memories.

"I thought I saw you coming in here." I jump at the sound of Savannah's voice. When I turn sideways to see her, I smile, still not believing she finally married her dream man. She looks so beautiful in her off-theshoulder ivory-colored wedding dress, like something right out of a fairy tale.

"I just needed a moment to myself," I tell her, and that's the truth. Between watching Connor's date flirt with all the guys and my talk with Connor, I just needed a minute where his face wasn't everywhere I looked.

She nods in understanding, and I know she does.

The four of us, Savannah, Kennedy, Zoe, and I, we all understand what it's like to be in love with one of the four guys who have been in our lives for as long as I can remember. "Well, I thought I should tell you that Connor just told his date to leave, and she wasn't quite happy about it." She's smiling, and I get the feeling I wasn't the only one to be displeased that Connor brought a stranger today.

"He did what?" I ask her, a little shocked that Connor would send a quick lay back home without getting any first.

"He told her that bringing her here was a mistake and told her to leave. He gave her money for a cab." She tries not to laugh, but she can't help it, and I have a feeling Alexis really did not take it well. She probably

threw a tantrum like a five-year-old, which I would have paid money to see.

"Why would he do that?" I ask, because Connor never does anything without a damn good reason; it's just who he is.

She takes a sip of her beer and leans back in her chair, her dress flowing around her. "Because he loves you and seeing you upset is probably killing him, and maybe my husband had something to do with knocking some sense into him."

I love Savannah like she's my sister and I hate that I'm the one who brought drama to her wedding day. "I'm sorry I haven't been in the best spirits today. This is your day. My dramatic love story with Connor shouldn't cloud that."

She shakes her head and I know I'm about to get a Savannah talk, that one sentence that reminds you of what's important.

"No, it's not. It's our day. We've all been through hell and back in the last year, shit, make that decade, but we've all made it out alive and stronger."

Isn't that the truth? The eight of us have been through a lot these past years, with kidnappings, shootings, and everything in between, but at least one good thing came out of it all: Noah and Savannah. "I still can't believe you're Savannah Johnson now. God, do you remember how many times you used to call yourself that when we were in high school?"

She giggles, actually giggles, and I can't help it, I join her. "I know, it's insane, but I'm so happy, Belle. You deserve that too, you know. Connor isn't the kind of man that you can quit, and I know you love him, honey. I just wish you would stop being so scared."

Her words are heavy with emotion and there's a part of me that knows she's telling the truth, but there's another part that hates being scared by a man. "Yeah well, we all know there's only one option for me." I look through the window at Connor as I talk, and as if I called out, the instant my eyes land on him, he turns around and looks straight at me—or more like straight through me.

"Honey, there's only one option for each one of us, you just had to fall for the one with the most demons."

Isn't that the truth!

I smile back at her. "Just my luck. Now, stop worrying about me and go spend some time with your husband." I push her out the door when I see Noah looking at her like she's his next meal. I feel that deep longing inside for what they have, for Connor to look at me the way Noah is looking at Savannah.

She looks at me and I know she's trying to gauge if I'm okay. "All right, we're just about to light the bonfire.

Are you coming?"

I swallow. "Yeah, I'm just going to grab a blanket before I head out," I tell her, desperate for a few more minutes of alone time before I have to face Connor again.

* * * * Connor Sending Alexis home was the right thing to do. I'm second-guessing bringing her in the first place. Watching Annabelle and Savannah talk in the kitchen, I wanted to be a fly on the wall, but judging by the glare Savannah gave me when she stepped outside, I'm guessing I'm not her favorite person right now. Fuck, I can't blame her.

After I apologized to her for being an asshole on her wedding day, she told me that I might want to go check on Annabelle, that she might need help getting the blankets. Now, I love Savannah, but that girl doesn't have a subtle bone in her body, which is probably why she's such a good Assistant US Attorney. She's quiet and sharp, and that makes her dangerous, whereas Annabelle is direct and attacks like a shark, which makes her perfect to handle hardened criminals, or assholes like me.

Turning down the hallway that leads to the cabinet where the blankets are, I stop dead in my tracks when I see Annabelle on tiptoes trying to grab the blankets that are well out of her reach. Her dress has ridden up the back of her thighs and it would take one second for me to wrap it around her waist and slap that round ass for driving me crazy. Shit, I really need to get a grip.

"Damn it to hell, I can't even do this without the man's help."

I smile when I hear her mumbling. She does that a lot when she thinks no one is around, and it's the cutest fucking thing in the world. "Need some help?" I ask her, my voice loud enough to startle her.

She jumps and whirls around, her hand over her heart, drawing my eyes to the perfect neckline of her dress exposing just the right amount of cleavage to make my mouth water. "Good God, you scared me, Connor. I don't know how you always do that."

"Always do what?" I tease, walking closer to her, watching her tense with every inch. I know exactly what she means but I love rattling her. I love seeing her as feisty as the red of her hair.

"Sneak up on me. You always sneak up on me." I can hear the tremor in her voice, the same one she gets when I make her nervous. Over the years, I have memorized every single one of her reactions, facial expressions, and anything else that makes me feel like I'm close to her.

"Years of practice, baby. Do you want me to grab that for you?" I ask, moving up beside her, crowding her between the door frame and me.

Her eyes travel down my chest then back to my eyes and she shakes her head like she's trying to shake off the lust between us; if only it were that easy.

"Sure, I'm missing a couple of inches." Her smile is what always gets me. It's a mixture of innocence and sex appeal, just like the rest of her.

"Well then, that's why you have me." I step in front of her, letting my body touch hers. I know that makes me greedy, but fuck, I can't help it. Her body calls to me every second of the day.

I don't miss her intake of breath or the way she presses her body closer to mine, but before I can say anything, she changes the subject, and just like that her body goes back to being tense. "I heard you sent your date home."

"She wasn't my type anyway," I tell her honestly.

"Could have fooled me," she mumbles, but I hear it and it pisses me off.

I drop the blankets on the floor and push her back against the wall, my thigh between her legs. "Let's get a few things out in the open right now. She isn't my type and you know that; I'm not perfect, Annabelle, and God knows I've made my share of mistakes in the last fifteen years, but I have never ever made you feel like you weren't exactly what could bring me to my knees. I'm a selfish bastard, Belle, and I'm not letting you go. I can't let you go." I use my hands to push her hips back against the wall so she can't escape, but deep down, I know I'm trying to scare her, trying to make her see a side of me I never want her to see.

Her body goes limp as I hold her down so hard, I know she'll have my handprints on her waist, and I

swear under my breath because she's responding to something she should be running away from. Where there should be fear in her eyes, all I see is desire, and that is unexpected.

I let go of her and she whimpers at the loss of contact, but before I can ask her about it, she shuts down on me again and then she goes straight for the kill. "Is that why you shut me out after Mexico and Colombia?

Because let me tell you something, Connor, I would have taken your place a hundred times over so that you didn't have to go through that. All I wanted to do was help you, and you shut me out."

Listening to her, anger boils inside of me. Doesn't she understand that I would go through all of that again to keep her safe? That those kinds of things are the reason I can't go there with her? "First, don't ever say that you would take my place because I will kill anyone who even dares put your life in danger. Second, I am fucked-up, Annabelle, and I was even more fucked-up after Mexico and Colombia. You're right. I shut you out because I didn't want you to see me that way."

"I can't do this with you right now." She grabs the blankets from the floor and, without even looking at me, she walks away.

"Who's walking away now, Belle?" I see her shoulders tense up at my words but she doesn't stop and, once again, I'm forced to watch her walk away from me. * * * *

Annabelle One of my favorite things about coming up to the lake house is when we're all sitting around a fire with cold beers in our hands, because in this very moment, we don't have to be anybody other than who we are. No city lights, no badges, no courtrooms, nothing that gets in the way of just being us.

It's still so funny to see how everyone is paired off without even being together. Zoe is sitting between Logan's legs while Kennedy's head is on Blake's shoulder, and Savannah is sitting in Noah's lap. Connor and I never used to be the odd ones out but tonight, he's sitting a few feet away from me and it feels like he's miles away.

"So, do you guys know who's officially taking John's place?" Zoe asks and the nerves I've been trying to get under control are now back. After Savannah found evidence that our old boss, John, had been in bed with the head of a Colombian drug cartel, the whole US Attorney's Office was turned upside down with a largescale corruption scandal, leading to over a dozen arrests.

Savannah looks at me with a smile on her face before she answers, "Beatrice Arlington."

"Wow, she's a legal legend." Kennedy is right.

Beatrice Arlington is a legend, but to me she's more than that. She's who I aspire to take after as a lawyer, and

having her as my new boss is making me a lot more anxious than I thought possible.

"Yeah, Annabelle is getting a little nervous."

"Why are you nervous? You're the goddamn best AUSA know." I look at Connor, shocked by his outburst.

Sure, he's told me a million times that I'm a great lawyer, and I know I'm really good at my job, but tonight my self-doubt seems to be pissing him off more than usual.

"She's an organized-crime legend; it's just intimidating when your boss is your idol, you know. I want her to like me. John never really respected me, so I want her to think I belong there. I admired her in law school. She's the kind of lawyer I wanted to be, and now I'll be working for her." I let the words flow and I see Savannah look at me sympathetically, and I hate it. I know that she doesn't mean any harm by it, but I've worked really hard to gain respect and I hated that John never took me seriously.

"You're a brilliant lawyer, Belle. There's no way she won't see that. You'll blow her away, baby." Everyone's eyes land on Connor, nobody masking their shock at the endearment.

"Do you think she'll put you on a big case?" Zoe finally asks, breaking the awkward silence, and I silently mouth "thank you."

Before I can stop Savannah from spilling what she already knows, she claps her hands in excitement, making me laugh. "Oh, I can answer that. Rumor has it

that she's going to put our very own Annabelle on Vlad Ivanov."

"Isn't he the head of a Russian drug and trafficking cartel?" Kennedy asks. I nod.

"Yeah, but it's just a rumor. Guys, what's wrong?" I look around. The guys have all gone silent, which means nothing good. The happy and lazy look everyone had seconds ago is gone, and all I see now is worry.

"It's not a rumor, Annabelle; you're getting read in in the morning." Noah speaks up, ignoring Connor's glare.

"How do you know that?" I ask Noah, hoping this isn't heading where I think it's headed.

Connor's eyes are on me, but I focus my attention on Noah as he answers my question. "The four of us have been assigned to a special task force focusing on Ivanov, and you're the AUSA assigned to the task force."

"Did you say the four of you?" This cannot be happening. Out of all the things that could have happened with this case, this has to be the least expected and yet the least surprising. Working with Savannah on the Colombian drug cartel case and being so close to Connor, I barely made it through; there is no way I will survive working that closely with him again.

Logan went and stole my hope. "Yeah, and Connor is lead on the case."

I drop my eyes to the ground trying to understand why this is happening to me. "Shit." Seven pairs of eyes

are on me as I swear, and then Connor sits beside me, using his fingers around my jaw to turn my head.

"Is working with me so bad?" There's something different in his eyes as he talks, something darker, like I've upset him by being distraught at the idea of working with him.

Surely he has to know that when one of us works with the guys, things change. "Look at what happened the last time one of you worked with one of us."

"Someone got shot?" He grins at me and I know he knows exactly what I'm talking about, but he wants me to say the words and like a good girl, I can't seem to stop myself from giving him what he wants.

"That's not funny, Connor." I look away from him afraid that if I don't, I'll get lost in the depth of his eyes and now that we'll be working together, I can't allow any distractions to get in my way. * * * * Around 2:00 a.m., after turning and tossing like a crazy person, I make my way down to the kitchen desperate for something to eat. I'm surprised when I find Logan sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a file that he closes as soon as he sees me. It only makes me wonder what he's working on, but I know better than to push Logan.

"What are you doing up?" he asks me. I love Logan.

He is one of the nicest guys I've ever met, and he's always been easy to talk to.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would make myself something to eat, like I need the extra calories," I joke, when the truth of the matter is I can't get Connor's date out of my head. She was skinny where I'm curvy and that sting of doubt that maybe Connor just doesn't find me attractive enough to make a move‌ well, it's still there.

"Hey, stop that. You're sexy as hell, and just because Connor was an ass today doesn't mean he doesn't think so too." He looks me up and down and I know he finds me attractive. It's crazy because I think of him like a brother, but seeing that kind of appreciation in a man's eyes, today of all days, feels good.

"Yeah, well, I'm starting to think that letting him go might be better for my sanity." I mean the words from the bottom of my heart. Lately everything has just been so hard with Connor that maybe moving on is the best thing for me to do, even if it might kill me.

"You don't really believe that, Belle," he says, tilting his head to the side and giving that look of his that says he thinks I'm full of shit.

"Honestly, Logan, I don't know if I can do this with him much longer. I mean, it's already hard enough, but now we're going to be working together‌. I'm not that strong."

He leans back in his chair like he's trying to decide if he should tell me something or not. "Yes, you are.

Listen, Connor is a lot of things and I'm the first one to say that he can be a first-class asshole, but he loves you,

Annabelle. He might not be able to tell you or show you, but he loves you. You know he hasn't been with anyone since Mexico? Just thought you should know that."

Well now, that's unexpected, and to be honest, there's a little bit of joy in knowing that he hasn't been with anybody in that way since Mexico. Maybe that connection I thought we had then was stronger than I gave it credit for. "Thanks, Logan."

He smirks and I can see what Zoe sees in him. The man is one fine piece of NYPD's finest. "Anytime, darling. Now, what are you going to feed me?"

Chapter Two

Connor I know I shouldn't be here, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself to stay away, I just can't. Driving back from the lake house, I couldn't get her words out of my head. Someone got married, Connor. Those words should scare me but instead, I find myself wanting things only Annabelle has made me want. Maybe it's all due to spending a weekend away in Noah and Savannah's romantic bubble, who knows, but the fact is that it's five thirty on a Monday morning and I'm at the office because I knew she would already be here.

I stand by her open office door and when she doesn't notice me, I take the chance to just look at her.

Her red hair is pulled into a ponytail, which she'll spend the day doing and undoing, and she has her glasses on, which just makes her look like a dirty fantasy. She has on just the right amount of makeup, even though she

doesn't need any. Annabelle is the kind of woman with natural beauty. Her freckles are adorable, her bottom lip is between her teeth, and I know that whatever she's looking at is making her nervous. Her fitted gray suit jacket covers the ink on her arms, and I can see the hint of my favorite purple dress, the one that clings to every curve of her body, the one I spend my nights imagining taking off her.

"Now, why am I not surprised to find you here?" I finally speak when I start to feel like I'm on the verge of stepping into stalker territory.

When she lifts her head, the most beautiful pair of green eyes and a shocked expression greet me on her face as she looks between the clock and me on her desk.

"Connor, what are you doing here? It's five thirty in the morning."

"I should be asking you the same question. Did you even get any sleep?" I ask her even though I already know the answer. Judging by the empty coffee cups around her office, I'm right.

"I wanted to get a head start on Ivanov so that I don't look like a complete idiot in front of my new boss."

There she goes, undoing her ponytail and letting all that gorgeous red hair fall over her shoulders.

I've fantasized about her hair wrapped around my wrist as I pound into her from behind more times than I care to think about. Her words bring me out of my fantasy. How can she even think that she could ever sound like an idiot? "Even at your worst, Belle, you're

still the smartest person I know. I fucking hate that you can't see that."

She bites her lower lip and I have to dig my nails into my thigh to keep from reaching for her and replacing her teeth with mine.

"Savannah is smart while Kennedy is street smart, and Zoe is a walking legal encyclopedia. I'm just average."

That's about all I can take. I walk to her and slam my fists onto her desk, making her gasp in shock.

"Listen to me, and listen to me good: you are not average, baby. You are so much more, and I don't ever want to hear you call yourself that. You are amazing, and so fucking smart. I hate that you don't see that." My words are sharp and there's no mistaking that this isn't up for discussion. I see something flash across her face, the same hint of desire that I saw in her at the lake house when I had her pressed against the wall. Is my dominance turning her on? Have I been so caught up in my own shit that I haven't noticed her reaction to that side of me before?

"Okay!" One little word is all she says, and that is enough for my cock to notice. Everything about her is enough for my cock to take notice.

I need to get some air and I need to get it fast. "Let me grab a coffee and I'll tell you everything I know on Ivanov."

"You don't have to do that, Connor. I'm sure you have better things to do," she says, trying to brush me

off. That's another thing she does that I hate. She puts herself down like she isn't everything that matters to me.

Although I can't really blame her for that, it's not like I've gone the extra mile to make her see things from my perspective.

"Spending time with you, no matter how it happens, is always the best thing I have to do, Belle. Never doubt that." She looks at me like I'm some sort of alien, and who can blame her? I'm so hot and cold with her, I can't even keep up. I need to get my shit together.

I walk to the door. "Connor?"

Fuck, my name on her lips isn't helping my control right now. "Yeah?" I manage to say through the cloud of lust surrounding me, looking at her over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more welcoming to your date."

She apologizes like everything is her fault.

"Fuck me‌ I'm the one who should be apologizing.

I never should have brought her. I don't know what I was fucking thinking. I'll be right back."

"Connor?" She really needs to stop saying my name like that, because I'm barely hanging on to my control, and hearing my name on her lips one more time will snap the leash.

"Yeah?"

"Spending time with you is the best part of my day too."

And just like that she untangled something inside of me, something I'm not sure either of us are ready for.

* * * * Annabelle No matter how hard I try to focus on the files in front of me, my thoughts keep drifting to Connor. Leaving the lake house early Sunday morning wasn't in my plans, but after my talk with Logan, I needed the distance. I needed time to gather my thoughts, which apparently Connor didn't appreciate. Savannah texted me an hour after I left telling me that Connor was royally pissed I left while he was still sleeping. That's exactly the kind of behavior I needed distance from, because all of this hot and cold is driving me insane.

I never expected him to show up at the office before sunrise this morning, although I probably should have.

Why does he always have to look so damn good too?

Black jeans and a black T-shirt never looked better on a man than they do on Connor. Although if I had a choice, I would make him come to work shirtless. The man's body is a work of art; it puts Jason Statham to shame, and that's saying something right there.

I smile when he walks back into the office with two coffees in one hand and a bag in the other. "Is that for me?" I ask while I make my way around my desk to the sofa I added after spending one too many nights sleeping on the floor.

"Yeah, I figured you could use one. I grabbed some bagels too." He hands me my coffee and a wrapped

bagel. My mouth waters at the smell, and I realize I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

"Sesame?" I know I don't even need to ask but I can't help it. The thing about being friends with someone for as long as Connor and I have been friends is that you don't even need to ask things anymore. It can also be a pain in the ass, because I can't hide anything from him.

He gives me a look that says what else would it be?

And I can't help but smile at the man in front of me. On days like today, our relationship seems so normal, it makes it hard to understand why we fight it so much.

"Yeah," he finally tells me, his eyes locked on me like I'm a secret he wants to unravel.

I take a bite of the bagel, moaning at how good it is.

"Thank you," I manage to say in between bites.

"I never get used to seeing you all covered up," he tells me, eyeing my outfit.

"Somehow I don't think full sleeves are appropriate to show off in here." I'm proud of my tattoos and I'm not one of those people who care what other people say, but John made it very clear that I was supposed to look like an Assistant US Attorney and not one of the criminals on trial. After that day, I went out and bought as many suit jackets as I could, and I've never not worn them in the office.

"It's like eighty degrees outside and you're wearing long sleeves. At least take the damn thing off in your office." There's something that just clicks into place inside of me when he goes all dominant like that. Some

people might think that makes me weak, and maybe they're right, but I don't care. I keep thinking about the way his hand grabbed my neck this weekend or how he used his hands to hold me to the wall, leaving bruises on my hips. That side of him, the one he rarely shows me, does things to me I don't even understand.

"All right," I say as I take off my gray jacket and turn around to put it on the back of my chair.

When I turn back, Connor's whole body is tensed, his eyes on me, and I can almost feel him on my skin.

"Fuck. Maybe you should have kept it on."

I look down at myself, trying to understand what he means. "Why? What's wrong?"

He rakes a hand through his hair and when his shirt lifts, exposing a piece of his skin above his jeans, I hold back a groan. "Nothing's wrong‌ it's just, fuck, how am I supposed to focus with you looking like that?" My eyes jerk away from the exposed skin when he speaks, and I don't miss the grin on his face. Guess I've been caught red-handed.

"Oh, well, hmm!" I say, a blush taking over my face.

"You have no idea, do you? Let's focus on Ivanov before I do something we'll both regret." He points to the sofa next to him and when I sit down, his body heat hits me like a wave, the smell of his aftershave invading my senses. God, how did I think I could ever work with him and not go crazy?

I look at him and I'm startled to find him looking right at me, like he's trying to get inside my head. "Sure, but just an FYI, Connor, I've been waiting a long time for you to do something, so don't think I would regret it."

He needs to know that whatever regrets he might have, I wouldn't share them.

"Fuck!" He shakes his head and takes a big gulp of coffee. I can't tear my eyes away from his throat, watching it move as he swallows. God, what is wrong with me?

He coughs and I blush some more, knowing I was just caught ogling his throat. "Okay, so you know that Ivanov is the head of the largest organized criminal networks in Russia. His operations expand to all of The United States, Eastern Europe, Central Asia, parts of the Middle East and North Africa. He's making a play for cartel-dominated markets in Latin America, which is going to seriously piss off the cartels. He deals in drugs, arms, and women. This guy is fucking sick, and he has no regard for human life, which makes him fucking lethal. He's not just another sick fuck either, this guy is fourth generation. He took over after his father died and expanded their operations over 35 percent in six months.

His operation in the US generates close to a billion dollars a year in profit through drugs, sex trafficking and extortion. Business owners, politicians, cops, this guy has a lot of people on his payroll. That's what makes him untouchable."

I let his words sink in before I say anything. After Savannah's case with a Colombian drug lord last year, I'm still a little on edge about some of the bigger cases.

"He sounds just joyful. After Savannah's run-in with Vasquez last year, I thought we had seen it all, but somehow, with this guy, I don't think we're even close to understanding what he's capable of. His name has been on our desk sheets for years, but we've never had anything that would stick," I tell him honestly.

He looks away from me and drops his head between his legs. I have to fight the urge to run my hands up and down his back. After a few seconds, he looks up at me, his face tight with emotions I can't decipher. "Until now, and that's gonna fucking scare him. I don't fucking like you on this case. This guy is in a league of his own. He won't hesitate to do whatever he needs to do to stay on the outside."

"It's what I do, Connor. No case is without risk, we all know that," I remind him, hoping he understands that I won't back down from this case because I'm scared.

"I know that, but this guy, Belle, the minute you start digging, he's going to be all over you. He'll put a bullet in you without even blinking an eye." He jumps off the sofa and starts pacing the room. I've never seen Connor this on edge before.

"That's why I have you guys. There's no one I trust more to keep me safe than you." He's so lost in his own visions of what might happen that I'm pretty sure he

doesn't hear me, because he keeps going without even looking at me.

"I want you to learn how to shoot, and I want you to learn how to fight." His voice is strained like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Okay." I'm totally okay with that, plus a part of me is happy that I get to spend more time with him, no matter how torturous that might be for my heart.

"And I'm going to put a tracker in your phone, your car, and I'll have a new security system installed at your house." That sounds a little over the top, but after what happened with Savannah, I can understand where he's coming from.

"Okay," I say again, and I smile when he stops pacing and just looks at me with a rare intensity in his eyes.

"Now don't argue with‌. Wait, what did you say?"

He shakes his head like he was in some kind of a trance, making me giggle.

I smile at him. "I said, okay."

"Okay then." He grabs his coffee from the table, and when I laugh, he just gives me a look that says I'm pushing it. There's a part of me that wants to keep pushing, just to see what would happen, but one look at the clock and I know I don't have the time.

"I have to go meet my new boss," I tell him as I get up and grab my jacket. Before I make it to the door, he spins me around and pins me against the wall.

He leans closer to me, his breath on my neck, and when he whispers in my ear, my knees buckle. "You'll kick ass, baby." For what seems like forever, he keeps me in that position. His hands on my waist, his face buried in my neck, and when he finally pulls away and leaves my office, I'm more confused than ever before. * * * * Connor What the hell is wrong with me? I felt her curiosity this morning in her office, and I couldn't resist. Pushing her up against the wall and feeling her body submit to mine wasn't in my plans, but once my hands were on her, I was fighting a battle of wills. I could have taken her right there, up against her office wall, and I know she would have let me. I could have wrapped her legs around my waist, pinned her arms above her head, and fucked her like a madman and I know she would have begged me for more. A man like me shouldn't know that about the woman who's occupied every single one of his fantasies; I shouldn't know she craves that side of me, because walking away is impossible now.

I need to blow some steam off before I lose it, say fuck it to everything around us, and just take her. When I walk into the gym, I smile and shake my head at Noah who's on the bench lifting weights. I should have known he would be here, but I'm surprised Savannah even let

him out of the house. This new case has everyone on edge, and we all know that every person is needed.

"I can't believe you'd rather be here than on your honeymoon," I say as I walk to the treadmill beside him.

He glares at me in a way that dares me to push it. I have to laugh because I know he would much rather be in bed with Savannah than here.

"I don't fucking want to be here. I'd rather be fucking my wife into tomorrow, but someone has to keep you in line," he snarls at me, and I can't help but laugh.

He and Savannah have been making up for lost time, as they call it. You'd swear they were teenagers.

"You sure you're okay to work lead on this one?"

He looks me over and I know he sees I'm wired tight, and that just pisses me off.

"Why? I didn't ask you if you were okay with being the lead when it was Savannah prosecuting. This isn't any different. I have my job and she has hers. We both know the risks." I know that's a low blow, but it's the goddamn truth. Everyone knew he was too close to Savannah when she was on the Vasquez case, but no one dared question his ability to be the lead, so hearing him question my ability to do my job and protect Annabelle is a blow straight to my gut, especially coming from him.

"It's not the same thing, man. You and Annabelle, there's a lot of unresolved issues there." He drops the weight and stands beside the treadmill, and now my blood boils.

"You're one to talk, man, you were right there with Savannah. Hell, you had her threat assessment moved so that she had to move in with you." He doesn't even flinch at the blow, fueling my anger.

"I did what I had to do to protect the woman I love." He speaks every word with a passion I can relate to.

What the hell does he think I'm doing? "So am I, so back off!"

I see a light switch go on in his head and then he smiles at me. "So you love her, then."

Shit, I've been played.

I turn the tredmill off and and run a hand through my damp hair, shooting daggers at him. "You fucking played me. Shit." I'm losing my edge if Noah can get me rattled up in under thirty seconds.

"That was way too easy, man," he says, laughing, making me wonder why we're friends in the first place. I love the guy like a brother, but he is a fucking pain in my ass sometimes.

"I don't like her on this case. Ivanov is bad fucking news," I tell him, finally putting my fears out there, knowing there's no going back now. Annabelle and I have been pedaling the bike of our relationship backward for too long; it's time we start moving forward.

He leans back against the weight bench. "She's not going to back down from this case and you know that.

The minute she's read in, which I'm assuming is right about now, she won't stop until she wins. Savannah is

like a tiger but Annabelle, she's a shark. This is a fucking dangerous case, but she has you watching her back, and we're all right there with you."

I know he's right, and I know I have to accept the fact that no matter how much I try to convince her this case is too dangerous, she won't walk away. But knowing that her life could be in danger over a case doesn't sit well with me. Every time I think about it, I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I would die if something were to happen to her. I look at Noah and I know I have to get out of here before I lose it. "I need to go brief the director. I'll see you at the team briefing." I slap his shoulder before heading for the door.

"Connor?"

I turn around. "Yeah, man?"

"I wasted over a decade not being with Savannah, and that's something I can never get back. Don't waste one more minute with Annabelle. Whatever is holding you back, it's not worth it. You guys are meant for each other." I nod because I don't know what to say to that.

Walking down the hallway to my boss's office, I know Noah is right, and the more time I let slip by, the more I'm losing. Maybe letting her in isn't that impossible, because isn't she already in? * * * * Annabelle

I can count one one hand the number of times I've been beside myself with nerves, but walking to my new boss's office for my first briefing is unlike anything I've ever felt. It's not just because she's my new boss, although that would be enough to make me nervous, it's because the woman sitting in the chair behind the door I'm looking at is the reason why I chose organized crime.

Working with someone you respect is an honor, but working with the woman you aspire to be, that's a privilege.

I give myself a mental pep talk and when I finally knock on the door and push it open, I take a deep breath and remember Connor's words. Beatrice looks up from her desk and gives me a welcoming smile. "Come in, Miss Stevens. Have a seat, please."

"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am." I mentally kick myself for sounding like an idiot. I really need to get a grip. The woman in front of me looks so poised and put together, it makes me readjust my suit jacket.

She laughs and shakes her head, and I don't really know how to react to that; it's definitely not what I expected. "Let's drop the formalities. Hearing someone call me ma'am always reminds me of my mother. I'm not that old, just yet. Please call me Beatrice," she says with a smile, and I feel some of my nerves disappear.

She puts her hand out, and I do the same, shaking on a new relationship. "It's an honor to meet you, Beatrice. Please call me Annabelle."

She gestures to the chair in front of her desk, and when I sit, I know she's taking me in. I wish I could read minds just for this one time. "Well, Annabelle, I'm still reading through my personnel files, but your record is quite impressive for someone so young, especially in organized crime. I know that the past year has been complicated, to say the least, but I'm hoping to move forward."

"Thank you. I'm excited to move forward. I have a great amount of respect for you, and it's an honor to be working with you," I manage to say.

"I like you, Annabelle. I imagine you have already been made aware that I am assigning you to the DEA task force in charge of the Ivanov case." I shouldn't be surprised that she knows of my relationship with Connor and the rest of the guys. I would be more troubled if she didn't.

"Yes, Special Agents Evans and Johnson briefed me on the basics this morning," I reply, and for the first time since knowing Noah and Connor, I wonder if our relationship outside of work could cost me a case. It's never been a problem before, and I'm not quite sure what I'll do if it becomes one.

She leans back in her chair, her arms crossed in front of her body. "Let's put our cards on the table, Annabelle. I'm not my predecessor. I play by the limits of the law, but I don't believe in setting professional boundaries with my staff that keeps us from forming a relationship. I also know every detail about my staff's

personal lives. I know that you and Connor Evans are extremely close and that you have an extensive personal relationship with three other members on the task force.

Now, I saw the work that was done by Savannah on the cartel case, and given her relationship with Johnson at the time, I'm assuming that you can make sure your personal life doesn't interfere with this investigation."

"Yes, I can. I've known Connor, Noah, Logan, and Blake for more than a decade, but my relationships with them never affects my objectivity on a case." I decide to stick with a simple answer because I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to respond to something like that.

"Great. Now let's talk about the jacket. I don't mind if you lose it while you're here, but I'm leaving that decision up to you. I won't think any less of your abilities as a lawyer if you show your ink."

I look at her for a few seconds, not sure how to take that. I've never had a boss like her before, and this acceptance is a little bizarre—yet strangely comforting.

If I thought Connor was confusing, Beatrice Arlington could give him a run for his money. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

"All right, now that we've settled that, let's talk about Ivanov." I take that as my signal to start my briefing.

I open my notepad even though I know every detail about the case. I prefer to be on the safe side in case I have a memory slip. "Vladimir Ivanov. Thirty-two years old, born and raised in Moscow until his dad sent him to

London, where he went to the London School of Economics. Graduated top of his class at twenty-five.

Traveled around Asia for the next two months, where we assume he laid the groundwork to expand his father's operations. He kept to low-risk criminal activities in his twenties. When he turned thirty, he spent six months in East Africa, where he's suspected of funneling money and arms to armed rebel groups in exchange for trafficking routes for his father's drugs and women. His father died when Vlad was thirty-one years old, and some members of the organization still think he had his father killed and had been planning his takeover for a while.

"He's grown the family's criminal net worth by 35 percent over the last six months with expansion in South America, where he's competing with the Mexican cartels, and in Asia where the Yakuza are putting up quite a fight for territory. He's thought to have relationships with outlaw motorcycle gangs in the United States to facilitate trafficking of drugs and women. Interpol has been investigating him for years, but nothing has ever stuck. The expect him to try to come on to U.S. soil soon. If he does, it means something big is happening."

She whistles and when I look up at her, she looks impressed, making the last twenty-four hours spent researching this case worth it. "You did your research."

I nod proudly before continuing, "I did.

Psychological profile says that he's old-school Russian

organized crime. Where his dad was less inclined to uphold traditions, he's believed to be anchored in them.

Arranged marriages and contracts, old-school extortion, and more. It's believed he has his hand in all levels of government in Russia and that multiple corrupt public officials are taking bribes from him all over the world.

Rumor on the streets is that he's looking to expand drug and sex trafficking operations in the US by using his links to MCs around the country.

"For years we've been trying to find a way to dismantle his US operations. This partnership could be our door. It opens up the door for prosecution on American soil. What we don't know is how deep this connection with the MCs goes. I'm trying to get through the bundle of intel we have, but nothing so far." Going through Ivanov's profile, I understand why Connor is so adamant I learn to shoot and defend myself. As much as I love my job and as much as I don't let criminals scare me off a case, Ivanov scares me in ways I've never experienced before. There's just something cold and dark about the man that tells me he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if he thought it was his only option.

"This guy makes me sick. He's smarter than people give him credit for. He's educated, and that makes him even more dangerous. I want a protection detail with you everywhere you go. I don't take risks with my staff and I want a win on this case." I know by the stern tone of her voice that this is not negotiable.

"I can handle that," I say, hating the idea of having a protection detail but knowing better than to go head-tohead with my boss on something like this.

"Now, my next question is going to cross some boundaries, but I need to ask. Do you want Evans assigned to your protection detail? Because he requested it, and I'm inclined to accept his request. Or do you want me to assign someone else?"

When did Connor get around to requesting he be assigned to my detail? The request doesn't surprise me though, because I know that even if he's confusing as hell personally, he won't let anything happen to me; none of the guys would. "I'm good with Evans."

"Good. They're holding a team meeting in thirty minutes on the third floor." Not much time to get ready, but I'm not about to complain. This is what we all sign up for: crazy hours, last-minute meetings, and allnighters.

"Okay. I'll make sure you have a briefing before lunch." I tell her, gathering my case file and notepad.

"You're a great asset to this team, Annabelle," she says, and I know by the tone of her voice that she means it.

Those simple words mean a lot to me, because working for a boss who believes in you, well, that's something I've been looking for for a long time. "Thank you. I won't let you down." I am determined to make that a fact. * * * *

Connor I can't wipe the smile from my face as I make my way to the team debrief session. When my boss called me to tell me Beatrice okayed my request to be on Annabelle's detail, it made my fucking day because it meant Annabelle herself agreed to it. I'm shocked to see Savannah leaning against the wall outside the meeting room, her eyes locked on her phone. She's in jeans and a T-shirt, which means she's not here to work, making me even more curious. "Savannah, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see my gorgeous husband and I wanted to talk to you." I have a feeling nothing could wipe the smile from her face, the smile that is there permanently because of Noah. They have had their share of struggles, but seeing them together now, we all know it was worth it.

"Sorry, gorgeous, I don't do threesomes with my best friend's wife." I tease her just enough to make her blush.

"Damn, there goes my fantasy. Seriously, I just want to talk to you about Annabelle." I go to stop her but she holds her hands up. "Don't say anything, just let me say this. When you were in Mexico, you have no idea how hard it was for her. Not only because you were there, but because no one would tell her anything because she wasn't family. You have no idea what it's

like to have someone withhold that kind of information on the man you care about. She kept her head up and did you proud, yet you came back and for a while you let her in, but then you shut her down. After you and Noah were held in Colombia, I have never seen someone more relieved to see you walk off that plane, even myself."

"What's the point of all this, Savannah?" I ask, feeling like my control is slipping again as I listen to her talk. With every word she says, the sharp pain to my heart increases, making me feel like I can't breathe, something I haven't felt since I was a kid.

"My point is that you need to make a choice. You either let her in for good and let yourself be cared for by one of the most amazing women I know, or you let her go for good so that she can one day move on and be happy with someone else."

My hands clench into fists at the mention of Annabelle finding someone else. Just the thought of her with another man makes me want to hurt someone. I will never let that happen, and I don't fucking care how selfish that makes me. "I can't let her go, Savannah. I've tried, trust me, but I can't do it."

"Then let her in. She deserves it, Connor. Hell, you deserve this." She presses her hand over my heart, making sure her meaning is clear, but what she doesn't know is that Annabelle is already in and she won't ever leave.

"I have to get to the briefing," I say, needing to get out of this conversation.

She smiles at me and taps my chest over my heart.

"Make sure my husband is home before sunset." She kisses my cheek. Noah coughs beside me, and it's like I no longer exist. She gravitates to him, and when he wraps his hands around her, I ache to do the same with Annabelle. As if my thoughts conjure her, I see her walking down the hallway, and fuck, she's not wearing her jacket. Between that dress hugging her curves, her exposed neck, and her ink on display, I can't fucking control my need for her. I walk toward her, ignoring her gasp when I grab her hand, and haul her into an empty meeting room.

"Connor, what are you doing?" She's breathless, and when I push my hips into her and she feels my erection against her stomach, she squirms. My cock pulses.

I grab her hips, hiking her dress a little higher on her thighs, groaning at the sight of the white lush flesh.

"Are you trying to fucking kill me, Annabelle? Are you trying to drive me out of my fucking mind with need for you, because it's fucking working."

"Connor‌." My name coming off her lips like a goddamn prayer drives me insane. I want to hear her say it while she's under me and I'm buried so goddamn deep inside of her, I'm all she can feel.

I grind my hips into her, making her feel my hard cock. "Feel that? That's what you fucking do to me, and I can't control it. Fuck!" I tell her before pushing myself off her, my body screaming at the loss of contact. When

I look at her, the lust I saw in her eyes is gone, and anger is all I see.

"Don't ever do that to me again unless you plan on following through, Connor Evans." She straightens her dress and then walks away. I have no idea what just happened, but whatever it was, it changed everything.

Chapter Three

Annabelle Walking into the team meeting, I can still feel Connor's hands on my body, his erection pressed against me, and I want to be angry—God, do I ever want to be angry. But I'm not, and that just pisses me off, because it's as if I've given him the right to do whatever he wants to me no matter how much it hurts me. I'm angry at myself because this is not who I am. I am not that girl who lets a man affect her like this, but with Connor, it's almost like I can't control it. My attraction to him has always been something I never quite understood. It's the kind of attraction that draws you like a magnet, and once you're in, there's no going back.

"You okay?" I look up when Logan puts a hand on my arm, and his soft voice calms me. This is not the place for me to have a breakdown; I will not let him do that to me.

"I'm fine, Logan." But before I can explain, his body is pushed away from mine. I'm stunned to see Connor ready to pounce on a man he's known most of his adult life.

"Calm down, man, you're losing your shit," Logan demands from across the room, but I can tell that nothing is getting through to Connor in that moment.

He's jealous, and a little part of me is happy that I can evoke that kind of emotion, but another part of me is scared of how far he'll take this.

So I make a decision. I press my hands to his shoulders and I smile at him. "Let it go, Connor. It's Logan, for crying out loud."

"He had his hands on you," he growls in my face.

Seriously, that's what he has to say after manhandling me earlier and leaving me a bundle of need. He does not get to play that card with me, not today.

"Are you serious? Logan has had his hands on me more times than you have, Connor. I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to get a hold of yourself.

We have a meeting to get through." I let go of his shoulders and walk around the room and sit down next to Noah, who looks as uncomfortable as anyone else that I took the seat next to his.

Noah leans in to me and whispers, "You're pushing your luck right now. He's itching for you to give him a reason to let the leash snap."

"We both know that leash won't snap, not with me anyway," I answer, throwing my head back just in time to hear a groan come from the front of the room.

When I look, I swear I can see the smoke coming out of Connor's ears. What the hell am I doing? This isn't me; I don't play games. I mouth, "I'm sorry," before opening my case file, and Connor's body relaxes as he nods in acknowledgement.

"Let's get this done. Logan, what's the word on the street?" Watching Connor from my seat, I can't help but be mesmerized by how gorgeous he is. When his eyes come to mine and he gives me a warning look to stop looking at him and focus, I giggle, and beside me Noah laughs. We're a weird bunch, but hey, we're all we've got.

Logan coughs to get everyone's attention, and we all laugh at how ridiculous we're being. "There's a rumor going around that Ivanov is looking to expand operations on the East Coast by associating with the Red Devils MC, but I've got to tell you, either people don't know shit or they are too fucking scared to talk. Every informant we have has gone dark." I listen to Logan talk about the Red Devils as I take down some notes to look into any informants we might have that could help get more information.

"We stopped a shipment of girls from Russia last week at the harbor, and these girls were young. I'm talking eleven years old." Blake runs his hands through his hair and I can see the anger in his features as he talks about the girls. Blake might be the quietiest man I know,

but his heart is bigger than anyone's I've ever met, which is probably why Kennedy has been in love with him since she turned fourteen.

"No one is talking?" Connor's voice is stern and I know Blake's news put him on edge for some reason.

Whatever that is, it's nothing good. If Ivanov is in bed with one of the most dangerous MCs in the country, nothing good can come of it for any of us. It could get bloody, and fast.

"It's like they lost their tongue or they're afraid they'll lose it if they talk," Logan answers. Informants going silent is never a good thing; it means something big is in the works.

"Annabelle, what have you got?"

I look at Connor and give him what we have so far, which in retrospect isn't much. "I had my first briefing with Beatrice this morning. She seems convinced that Ivanov is coming here to close a deal. We're trying to reach out to the Russian authorities to share case files, but I'm not holding my breath. Half of them are probably on Ivanov's payroll anyway, so I doubt that any information they have is going to be useful. I'm having Kennedy do a run at his financials to see what we could be dealing with. Whatever resources you guys need, we'll make it happen."

Connor looks at Noah and something passes between them. The four guys are close—they would die for each other—but Connor and Noah have been through

so much together that they have this bond that can never be broken.

Noah shakes his head before saying the one thing that will make this case a lot more complicated. "We have intel that Ivanov is bringing in a drug shipment in the next week that doubles his usual delivery, which means we can assume the deal with the Red Devils MC is a done deal. There's a lot of money being wired from a US bank account to Ivanov's account in Lichtenstein, so Kennedy should start looking there."

Kennedy is a financial wizard, and she has friends everywhere. You're hiding money somewhere, she'll find it, much to Noah's despair. He wishes his sister had become a nun instead of a lawyer. "I'll make sure she knows. Logan, is there any way to talk to the girls?"

He shakes his head. "Some of our guys tried, and we brought in an interpreter. But we're not getting anything out of them. They are scared out of their minds and I can't even begin to imagine what they've been through."

"Would you mind if I tried?" I ask, knowing I at least have to give it a shot. These girls might know something that could help us. I didn't have the greatest childhood, far from it, but in moments like these, I thank my parents for making sure my language skills are level with my legal skills.

"I don't see a problem as long as one of us is there.

You won't need an interpreter, so maybe they'll open up

to you more." I smile and silently thank my parents for making me take Russian classes when I was a teenager.

"I'll go with her." I look at Connor and simply nod, because I know this is already a done deal in his head.

"We have surveillance on the Red Devils, but a warrant to tap their phones would help. We don't know how they're communicating with Ivanov, yet," Blake says to me, and I can't help but smile at his grin.

"I'll get you a warrant by the end of the day," I tell him.

"Okay, tiger." Everyone laughs because they all know that I can be a bit aggressive when I need a warrant; judges tend to see things my way when I come in with case laws and precedence dating back twenty years. I always felt like I had to prove I belong here, and that means working twice as hard.

"Let's make sure we all have everyone's back on this one. I think we've seen enough hospitals for a while," Connor says, and every single person in the room agrees with him, of that I am sure.

When the meeting ends, I gather my files and head for the door. Connor grabs my shoulder and stops me.

"Belle, wait up!"

I turn around to face him. "I have to go brief Kennedy, Connor."

He takes a deep breath before putting his other hand on my shoulder and my silly body betrays me by melting into his touch. "I'm sorry about being an asshole. I don't know what the fuck is going on with me."

This is one of those moments where I can choose to let him get away with his confusing behavior and let him control the situation, or I can stand my ground and make sure he understands that I am not his yo-yo. "You better figure it out, Connor, because I am not your plaything."

With all the strength I have in me, I walk out of the room. For the first time in a long time, I feel like right now, he's the one left confused. * * * * Connor You better figure it out. Her words crawl over my skin like some sort of a threat to what I want. I have never seen that look in her eyes until today; the look that told me that she was ready to walk away. That scares the shit out of me as I can't even begin to imagine my life without her.

"What the hell was that, man?" I turn to look at Logan and I see Blake and Noah sitting in their chairs, arms crossed over their chests. I know that look on Logan's face; I'm about to hear something I don't want to hear.

"What are you talking about?" I grab my phone from the table. This is not a conversation I want to have with him right now. Fuck, it's not even a conversation I want to have with myself.

Logan snorts and I lift my head. What the hell is wrong with everybody today? "Cut the crap, Evans. The tension between the two of you was off the charts."

I grind my teeth, annoyed. "It's none of your goddamn business."

He slams his hands on the table, and he's pushing all my limits right now because Belle is not his concern, she's mine. "Annabelle is one of my closest friends, so I'm making it my business. You have been an asshole for a long time, and we've all watched you give that girl hope, and then tear it to pieces. The pattern needs to stop."

The flashes of her talking with Logan, laughing at something Logan says, the way he's always touching her are all I can see in my head, and my vision turns red.

"What's your deal with her anyway? You've been all over her lately."

"Someone has to be, 'cause you sure as hell ain't giving her what she wants," he snarls at me, like he knows her better than I do. No one knows Annabelle better than I do, and no one ever will.

Before I know it, I'm across the room, my arm against his throat, pushing him into the wall. "What the fuck did you just say?"

He doesn't even try to get out of my hold. I want him to fight me; fuck, I'm looking for a fight with one of my closest friends over a woman. I'm losing it. I let him go and just when my arm moves back to my side, he goes and says something that pushes me over the edge.

"You heard me. If you don't give her what she needs, why the hell wouldn't I give it to her?"

My arm moves of its own accord and the sound of my fist hitting his face resonates throughout the room.

"You even think about putting a finger on her, I'll break your hand, Logan."

He runs his fingers over his jaw and spits blood before looking at me with a grin the size of Texas on his face. I don't know what the hell just happened. "She's got needs, man, and if you don't do something, she'll find someone who will."

"What the hell do you know about what she needs?"

I swear he wants to leave this room in a body bag today.

I've never seen Logan push me on something like this before, and it confuses the shit out of me.

"Girls talk. When you guys were in Mexico, they had a girls' night, and let me tell you, some of the stuff those girls said made me blush," he said, shrugging it off like it wasn't a big deal. What the hell did Belle say that would make Logan blush? The guy ties up women in his bed, for crying out loud.

Before I can ask more, Noah steps up between us.

"Man, one of them is my sister, so don't say any more."

"I'm just saying, man up. If you don't see the way she submits to you, then maybe she's better off with someone else."

"I'm warning you, Logan, don't make me hurt you.

My relationship with Annabelle is off fucking limits." I shove him against the wall, his words still ringing in my

ears. The harder I fight my need for her, the more I want her. Images flash before me of the way she always leans into my touch, how her body always relaxes at the sound of my voice, how she always lets me decide what we do‌ fuck.

I know exactly when Logan figures out that I know what he's talking about, because he pushes me off him.

"Then fucking take her already."

"What are you so fucking afraid of? That if you tell her about what happened in Mexico and all the other fucked-up shit we've done to honor this badge, she'll run? You know her better than that," Noah adds, and sometimes I hate that he knows me so fucking well because I can't hide anything from him. Starting something with Belle means opening up about things I haven't even faced myself yet, and I don't know if I'm ready for that.

"Why did you wait so long to make a move on Savannah?" I ask, leaning back against the wall and ignoring my vibrating phone in my back pocket.

"I was stuck in my own head, kept thinking I would be too much for her to handle. Fuck, is that what you're worried about? That she'll run when that bedroom door closes? Annabelle craves what you can give her, anybody with eyes can see that."

I let his words sink in for a minute. "I don't want to hurt her," I finally manage to say.

"What do you think you're doing now?" he points out before walking out of the room when he sees

Savannah waiting for him. I push my hands through my hair, rubbing my beard, and a plan forms in my head. * * * * Annabelle Going over Ivanov's school records is a welcome distraction after the way the team meeting went today.

The more I read about this guy, the harder it becomes to associate him with a traditional criminal. This guy reads like an economics prodigy rather than the head of a Russian organized-crime group. His professors have nothing but praise for his brilliance, and reading interviews that Interpol collected over the years, there's clear shock when they learn who the man has become, which only makes me wonder what else we don't know about him.

"You got a minute?" I smile at Logan, who's standing in my doorway gathering gasps from the women finding a reason to walk past my office.

"Hey, Logan. Sure thing, what's up?" I ask him, not missing how tense he is and the beginning of a black eye.

"I was on my way back to the precinct but I wanted to drop by and see how you were." I automatically know something is wrong. Logan is expressive, and he carries the weight of everyone's problems on his shoulders. It's what makes him such a good cop.

"I'm fine, Logan. What happened to your eye?"

Even though I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, there's a part of me that needs to know if Connor did this and why.

He runs his fingers over the forming bruise. "I got into it with Connor. No big deal. And don't bullshit me, Belle. I was there when he was in Colombia; I saw how hard it was on you."

I want to ask him why Connor punched him, but I know it wouldn't get me anywhere. If Logan doesn't want to tell me what happened, then no amount of pushing is going to make him change his mind.

I lean back against my chair and reach for my coffee cup as I answer him. "Honestly, I'm more confused now than I've ever been. I don't know where his head is at. I don't know what's going on in his head, and I don't know how much longer I can handle him like that. He's giving me glimpses of things I've craved for so long, and then he takes it away. That's what hurts the most."

"Have you told him that? I know he's not the easiest guy to talk to, but you guys need to talk."

I laugh. I honest-to-God laugh, because if anyone understands how crazy that is, it should be Logan. "You know that you don't talk to Connor until he's ready to talk. If I push him before he's ready, I'll lose him, Logan."

He nods. "He's spent years trying to convince himself that his kind of fucked-up shouldn't touch you,

that his need for dominance would damage you somehow, but I've seen you around him and I know that's what you're looking for. Maybe you just have to push him hard enough over the edge."

I let his words sink in for a few moments and then it hits me how insane Logan sounds right now. No one makes Connor snap; it's an unwritten law. "You want me to make him snap? Are you crazy?"

"Are you afraid he's going to hurt you?" he asks me, gauging my reaction, and in that one fraction of a second, I'm not looking at Logan, my friend, I'm looking at Logan, the interrogator.

"He would never hurt me," I say sharply, making sure to make my point. I know Connor would never hurt me; it would kill him.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know." And that's the truth, because in this moment, I don't see a problem.

"Just think about it. On another note, when can you come see the girls? We have them at a safe house." I breathe a sigh of relief at the change of subject.

"I'll talk to Connor and see when he wants to do it, and I'll let you know. I don't even know if they'll talk to me." I know I stand a bigger chance at getting them to open up to me as a woman, but I know it's still a long shot.

"It's better than not trying. I've got to run." He stands and I have to say, I lean back and admire his body. All of the guys are in amazing shape with the

bodies of Greek gods, but Logan has that lean body thing going on, and it's hot. Not as hot as Connor, but still hot.

"Thanks, Logan. You're a good friend." * * * * Connor Walking down the hall to Belle's office, I know I'm taking a chance—a chance that she might bite my head off after the way I acted today. Hell, I wouldn't blame her if she did, because I deserve it. Over the years, I've come to the realization that I can sneak up on her anytime I want. I don't know why she doesn't hear me or sense me—maybe it's because her body recognizes mine —but whatever the reason, I love being able to just watch her for a little while.

Her hair is falling out of her bun, her makeup is all but gone, and I can see she's about as tired as she can handle. That's my cue to step in, to take care of her. "You look like you're about to fall over."

I hold my breath waiting to see how she reacts to seeing me. When she lifts her head and gives me a distant smile, I feel the hurt down to my core, but at least she's not kicking me out just yet. "It's been a long day.

What are you still doing here?" she says, her voice hazed with exhaustion, which makes my primal instincts to take her out of here soar to the surface.

"I had paperwork to get done. Are you done for today?" Her eyes follow my hand when I untuck my shirt from my pants. She licks her lips and fuck, what I wouldn't give for just one taste.

"Yeah, I'm beat."

"You get a chance to talk to Kennedy about the bank?" I ask, knowing that I have to ease into my plan, especially after today.

"Yeah, she's pulling all the records she can find. If there's a trail, she'll find it." She smiles in that way that says she's proud to have a friend and colleague like Kennedy. It's one of the things I love most about Belle, her ability to shine the light on others even when credit should be hers.

I sit down in front of her and speak the words that have been on my mind all day. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

She nods and I know she understands where I'm coming from. After seeing Noah go through hell with what happened with Savannah, I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to Belle. She covers my hand with hers and I feel the shock straight to my heart. When I look up, there's a blush on her cheeks; she felt it too.

She swallows and my eyes go to her throat. The image of me biting her, marking her, invades my head as her voice fills the room. "We'll all be fine. When did you want to go talk to the girls?"

I snap out of my fantasy to answer her. "The end of the week would be best on my end."

"That works for me." I know she's excited about talking with the girls Logan and Blake rescued, and I love her for that, but I've been on edge ever since she brought it up. Going to see the girls puts a public target on her back, and even if she were to stay under the radar while doing the investigation, this would put her out there.

I know she has to do it, but I'll make damn sure she has every tool possible in her basket to be safe. "Do you have time to go to the shooting range tomorrow morning?" I ask, hoping she won't fight me on this.

"Yeah, that works," she replies without any hesitation, making me smile.

I look around her office to see if she's eaten yet, and when I don't see any containers, I put my plan in motion.

There's one thing she can never say no to: me offering to cook for her. I'm not ashamed to use every asset I have to get her alone. "You eat dinner yet?"

She tilts her head to the side and I know she's trying to figure out what my angle is. "Not yet," she says, biting her bottom lip. God, I really wish she would stop doing that.

"How about we stop at the store and grab some stuff to cook you dinner?" I link my hands behind my head, smiling when she licks her lips as my shirt lifts and she gets a glimpse of my abs. Again, I feel no shame in using her attraction to me.

"You want to cook me dinner?" she asks, sounding confused. I know I shouldn't like that I can do that to her, but damn it, I do. I love knowing I can shock her when I need to, or that I can surprise her when I feel she needs an escape. It's built into me to see her happy.

"Yes. I can cook, you know," I tell her sarcastically, because we both know I'm a damn good cook, thanks to Noah's mom showing me everything she knew when she took me in. My chest tightens at the thoughts of Noah's mom in the kitchen, looking at the lost boy I was and giving me the chance to make something out of my life.

It still hurts that she never got the chance to see the man she helped me become.

I shake my head, shaking off the memories that weigh on me as I hear Belle talking through the fog.

"Oh, I know, I just don't understand what we're doing here, Connor."

"I don't know either, but what I do know is that I'd really like to cook for you tonight. What do you say?"

I'm hoping it's enough for now. I know she deserves a real answer, but I can't get myself there right now and all I can hope as I wait for her to answer is that she gives me the chance and the time I need to give her what she wants.

She's silent for a few moments. On most days I can read her like a book, but right now, I have no idea where her head is at.

"Okay."

When she answers, I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

"What do you feel like having?" I ask while she closes up her computer and locks her file cabinets.

When she stands and I see her exposed thighs before her dress drops into place, I picture myself sliding behind that desk, dropping to my knees, and rubbing my beard on the inside of her thighs before tasting her sweet pussy. "You choose, I trust you." I look up at her as she speaks, her eyes glued to mine.

I bite back a curse because hearing those words come out of her mouth combined with the things I want to do to her is making me a little crazy. "Dangerous words to say to a man like me."

She drops her hands to her waist, and I can't focus on anything but the way she felt when I had her pinned against the wall. She walks around the desk and leans down, her lips inches from my ear. "You don't scare me, Connor."

Fuck me, I'm so close to pushing her back on her desk and fucking her until I'm the only thing she needs to breathe that I have to get us out of here. I stand and have to readjust the hard cock pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Her gaze follows my hands, and when she moans at the sight of me pushing down on my cock, I grab her hand and get us the hell out of the office. "Let's go, I'm hungry." Damn right I'm hungry; I'm starving for her. Too bad she isn't on the menu tonight.

* * * * Annabelle To say that this whole night has been strange would be an understatement. After Connor showed up in my office offering to cook me dinner, we stopped at the supermarket to grab what he needed, since my fridge doesn't have much in it. There's something really intimate about shopping for groceries with someone. I know I shouldn't think of this as something that will happen often, but standing next to him and watching him teach me about food, well, it's hot. I'm also not the only one who seems to think so; the whole time we were there, women kept looking at him, and then looking at me, probably wondering what a guy like him is doing with a woman like me. On my good days, I couldn't care less about what people think, but tonight the stares sting.

When one woman started whispering about my tattoos and my weight, I felt the sting of tears and I hated myself for letting them get to me, until Connor pushed me against one of the glass doors in the freezer aisle, leaned in to me, and whispered, "Baby, there is nothing about you that doesn't turn me on. Don't ever doubt that." To make his point clear, he rocked his erection into me and I moaned at the contact, gathering gasps from the people around us. At that point, I didn't care.

When we got to my place, he sat me down on a stool behind the kitchen island, poured me a glass of

wine, and forced me to stare at his gorgeous back and ass as he cooked dinner. The man filled out jeans like nobody's business and his ass‌ well, it could turn anyone into an ass person. I sipped my wine, letting it flow down my throat, my eyes never leaving his backside. Every time he moved to grab something, the muscles in his back contracted, making my mouth water.

By the time we were ready to eat, I had a nice relaxed buzz from the wine, and I was so turned on I had to squeeze my thighs to ease the ache—not that it did any good.

When he turns around to put my plate down in front of me, he stops dead in his tracks and just looks at me like he wants to lick me from head to toe. God, I want that so bad. "Stop fucking me with your eyes, Belle," is all he says before sitting down beside me.

He's so close, I can feel the heat from his thigh and his side, and God, he smells so good I could eat him up.

When his forearm touches mine as he reaches for a piece of bread, I moan. I actually moan. Shit, I really need to get laid. "I swear to fucking God, Annabelle, don't make that sound again," he whispers in my ear.

Does he think that will tame the fire? Because it only makes it burn brighter; and then I remember Logan's words: push him.

"Connor?" I know he loves it when I whisper his name, and tonight is no different. His whole body comes alive, and maybe Logan is right, maybe pushing him is the right thing to do.

His eyes are heavy with desire, which just fuels mine to burn higher. "Yeah?" His voice is raspy, and God, I need him to touch me so bad, I ache for him.

I turn so that my body is facing his and when I spread my thighs a little, I feel his eyes on me, burning me alive. I lift the hem of my dress to expose more skin, shocked by my own behavior. I don't know what has gotten into me tonight, but my need for him is screaming to be satisfied. "What would it take for you to kiss me right now?"

"Not fucking much, but it's not going to happen so forget it." He pushes my thighs back together and spins me back so that we're side by side, and I can't help but feel the sting of his rejection. Maybe listening to Logan wasn't such a good idea after all.

We spend the rest of the meal making small talk and I start to get angry because I don't know why he's here. I don't know why he insists on doing this to me, on making me want something he's never going to give me.

I clench my glass of wine so hard, I'm sure it's going to break. I take a deep breath to try to calm down but the hurt of his rejection, combined with how much I need relief, makes me snap.

I push my stool away from the table, grab my plate, and drop it in the sink. When I turn around, his eyes are on me, and I've had it. "I need you to leave," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the counter.

"Okay." He gets up, takes his plate, and walks to where I am to drop it in the sink, brushing his shoulder against mine, making my whole body shiver.

"Now, Connor‌ I need you to go now." He looks at me like he's debating what to do, which just pisses me off. I grab his keys and his phone from the counter and push them against his chest, hoping I'm making myself clear enough for him to get the message.

Just when I think he's about to leave, he shakes his head, drops his keys and his phone to the counter, and mimics my position, "I'm not leaving."

"Yes, you are. I don't know what tonight was all about, Connor, and to be honest, right now I don't care.

You cannot keep doing this to me. You cannot keep making me want you more than I want to breathe, and then shutting me out. It hurts more every time and I can't do it anymore. I can't take the rejections anymore, Connor. I can't handle it."

"Fuck it," is all he says before closing the distance.

He wraps a hand over the back of my neck and pushes me back against the counter with the other one, with a force that makes me gasp.

"Is this what you want? You want me to take you like this?" He doesn't give me a chance to answer before he lowers his face to mine and uses his tongue to lick my lower lip. When he takes my lip between his teeth, I can't not touch him. I put my hands on his ass, making him groan, and that's when the leash snaps.

He moves his hand from my neck to my throat, using just enough pressure for me to feel his fingers digging in to my skin, and he kisses me like I have never been kissed before.

His mouth attacks mine, kissing every inch. He's not kissing me; he's fucking my mouth with his tongue, and I want more. He uses his hold on my throat to tilt my head to the side, kissing me deeper and harder. I slide my fingers under his shirt, scratching him, and that's when things get a little crazy.

"So fucking sweet…. So fucking perfect…. I can't fucking stop now; you've turned me into a goddamn addict," he says, before nipping my jaw and biting the skin on my neck hard enough that I know I'll wear his mark tomorrow, which just makes me want more. His hand travels down from my stomach to my thigh, and before I know it, he's got my dress wrapped around my waist, leaving me exposed to him. He kisses my mouth again, devouring it like he can't get enough, and I meet him with everything I have. Every year of built-up need and passion is thrown into this kiss, and air is no longer a priority. All that matters is Connor kissing me.

I hear a ringing sound in the distance but I can't stop. I need more. I wrap my legs around his waist, and as if he anticipated my move, he grabs my ass with both of his hands. I grind into his erection, throwing my head back, giving him perfect access to my neck, which he licks and nips. The ringing doesn't stop and I feel Connor's face against my neck. "Fuck… I have to get

that," he says, but I'm too far gone to stop. I grab his face and bring my mouth down to his, kissing him like the madwoman he's turned me into. I grip his hair and pull and he growls into my mouth, making my pussy clench.

"Fuck, baby, I don't want you to stop but I have to get that." He kisses me one more time before lowering me to the floor. When he pulls away from me, he looks at me like he's a wild animal ready to pounce and I'm his willing prey.

I don't register what he says when he answers his phone, but when he hangs up and turns to me, the anger lines on his forehead tell me all I need to know.

"You have to go." It's not a question, since I already know the answer.

"I do. I don't want to leave you like this. Fuck, I don't want to leave you, but I don't have a choice." He kisses me fast and hard before pulling away to run his thumb over my swollen lips.

"I get it, Connor. It's okay." I understand better than anyone the demands of his job, but right now, it sucks.

"No, it's not okay, but it's my job. After that, I know I was wrong for not taking you before, but mark my words, baby, you are mine and you will be in my bed soon." He grabs his keys and his phone before walking to my safe to grab his gun and his badge, and even though I've seen him like this a million times, tonight feels different.

I walk him to the door and after he kisses me one more time, I whisper to him, "Be safe."

"Always, baby." I close the door behind him, then lean back against the hard surface and run my fingers over my lips. Connor kissed me and I have no idea what it means.

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