“So will you?” I barely managed to croak out the words. I wanted his fingers back. His touch. I looked up at him. “Please,” I said, and in that moment I’m not sure if I was asking for his touch or a job.
He brushed a kiss over my lips. “Convince me,” he said as he crossed the room to sit on the couch, leaving me on the desk, alone, turned on, and more than a little frustrated.
I looked at him. At that gorgeous face, that wide, kissable mouth. I let my gaze travel down to where his erection strained against the folds of his slacks. I knew what he wanted—and damned if I didn’t want it, too.
For just a fraction of an instant I thought about what I was doing. About what I was. About lines that couldn’t be crossed and rules that shouldn’t be broken.
If this were anything other than an off-book operation, I’d be sanctioned six ways to Sunday. And if I tried to use anything I learned in court, the defense attorney would try to get the evidence tossed by arguing a due process violation and backing it up with buzzwords like “outrageous conduct” and “shocks the conscience.”
But this was my own private op, and I wasn’t on duty.
Tonight, I wasn’t even a cop. I had no authority, no rank. My badge wasn’t worth shit in Chicago.
This wasn’t about the law. It was about bargaining and desire. And the bottom line was that I wanted him. Wanted the man—and I wanted the information he could give me.
I slid off the desk and crossed to him. Slowly—deliberately—I knelt in front of him, positioning myself between his legs just as he’d positioned me. Then I reached for the buckle of his belt and began to unfasten it. “I can be very persuasive,” I said, then flipped open the button of his trousers.
Slowly, I eased the zipper down. “Very,” I repeated, as I slipped my hand inside his pants and freed his hard, perfect cock. I lifted my head, just for a fraction of an instant, and saw the heat in his eyes.
Then I closed my hand around him and guided the tip of his cock into my mouth, then felt the strong tug of desire and power cut through me as he drew in a low, shuddering breath.
He tasted of salt and musk and male, and I teased him with my tongue, relishing the sounds of pleasure he made, the low groans of satisfaction. I drew him in deeper and his body stiffened beneath me. All that power and passion, and it was bottled up tight, right there at my command, just waiting for me to release it.
I sucked, taking him in long, deep thrusts, desperate to take him farther, to pull him right up to the edge, and when I felt the first shudders—when I knew he was so very close—I slowly withdrew and peered at him through my lashes, my mouth slick with him as I whispered, “Will you give me a job?”
“Yes,” he moaned. “But not at Destiny.”
I stared at him. And then—though my body was hot and prickly with desire, though all I wanted in that moment was to feel that gorgeous cock inside me—I laughed.
“Bastard,” I said.
“Christ,” he said, his voice tight with control. “This isn’t how I planned it, but I have to have you. Now”
“Planned it?”
“You came out of nowhere and knocked me off kilter,” he said, as he reached into the drawer of a small table beside the couch and pulled out a condom. “I will have you properly in my bed, Sloane, make no mistake. But I’m going to fuck you now.”
“I—“
“No. Don’t say a word,” he said as he rolled the condom on. “Just lift your dress, take off your panties, and come here.”
“I should go,” I said, even as my sex clenched in anticipation and my nipples tightened painfully. “I should just turn around and leave.”
“But you won’t.”
I hesitated, and part of me wanted to leave simply to keep him on edge. But that wasn’t happening. I wanted this too much. Wanted Tyler too much.