“Fine,” he says, gritting his teeth. I can see his manhood pressing through his jeans, stiff and ready. For me. “But soon can’t come soon enough.”
“You’re telling me,” I mutter.
By some herculean effort, I manage to tear my eyes away from his carved face, his amazingly balanced body, the scrawls of ink and dark brown curls. I gather my things, relieved that I at least remembered my purse—and gun—through last night’s shenanigans. For good measure, I snatch up a tee shirt of Brooks’ as well. My sexy party outfit won’t quite cut it in the light of day.
I don’t even dare to steal one last kiss from Brooks before squaring my shoulders and preparing myself for the most epic walk of shame in the history of the world.
Chapter Nine
As I step out of the taxi and hurry into the FBI field office, I hold my head up high and ignore the stares of my new coworkers. There was no time to stop off home before coming in to work, so the entire office gets to see my take on morning-after chic. My black skinny jeans, sky high stilettos, and smudged makeup leave very little to the imagination, as far as what I got up to last night. Thank god I’ve at least got Brooks’ tee shirt draped over my crop top. I try to ignore how even the lingering smell of him gets me worked up. The last thing I need is to spend the morning fantasizing about my bad-boy-almost-lover.
Yeah right, I think to myself, as if I have a choice about that...
“Good morning boys,” I say brightly, stepping into the conference room where Mitchell and Bruno are waiting.
The men glance up and gape unabashedly. Bruno bursts out into unkind, uproarious laughter while Mitchell simply cocks his head, taking me in.
“Rough night, Collins?” my boss asks.
“Productive night,” I reply with a confident smile.
“With that getup, I bet it was more reproductive than anything else, am I right?” Bruno cackles meanly.
“Clever,” I drawl, rolling my eyes, “And wrong. But thanks for playing, Bruno. I spent the night partying at the Forty-Five Club, with the entirety of Dante’s Nine and the Las Vegas Devil’s Wraiths.”
Bruno’s laughter cuts off with a strangled, indignant sound as Mitchell’s face lights up with a pleased grin.
“Seriously, Collins?” Mitchell asks, “You got access to the Dante’s Nine clubhouse?”
“Sure did,” I say, crossing my arms. “The clubs were having a welcome bash for the newest member of the MC. All seventeen brothers were in attendance, plus the old ladies I’ve been working with. And a few sweet butts, to boot. They brought me along after we finished up with the website for the day.”
“So you know who the ninth member is, then?” Mitchell asks excitedly.
“Wh-what?” I stammer, caught off guard.
“The newest guy of Dante’s Nine. Who is he?” my boss presses, nodding at the blank space among the club’s roster hanging on the wall.
“Oh. Uh. His name is Brooks. Caleb Brooks,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. Why does it feel like such a betrayal, speaking his name in this building? If Brooks and the others are innocent, then no harm will come from my relaying this information. Right?
“Excellent work, Collins,” Mitchell says, clapping me on the shoulder. “It was risky, going in there without giving us a heads up. But you took a chance and came back with some great information. It was never the plan to have you working outside of CrowdedNest, but I think we should reevaluate that—”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Bruno growls from across the room. His face is turning bright red, and his meaty hands are balled into fists.
“What’s the problem, Bruno?” Mitchell sighs.
“The problem is that she’s a rookie,” Bruno spits. “She’s going to come traipsing into my part of the investigation and fuck everything up.”
“Last night was a success,” I remind him, raising an eyebrow. “What, are you above having another agent help you—?”
“Last night was beginners luck,” he says, waving away my assertions. “You’re not ready for this, Collins. You have no idea what you’re doing. I’ve been working on this investigation for months. Operation Inferno is my case.”
“Our case,” I correct him.
“Like hell,” he growls.
“Enough,” Mitchell says, cutting us both off, “quit squabbling, would you? Quinn, proceed carefully with your part of the investigation. If there’s another opportunity to spend time at the Forty-Five Club, go ahead and take it. Keep gathering information as it comes to you, but make investigating CrowdedNest your priority.”
“Got it,” I smile.
“And Bruno,” Mitchell goes on, “Your investigation has been focused on the Devil’s Playpen, not the Forty-Five Club. You should still have plenty of room to do things your way around the Wraiths’ compound. Keep your focus on the porn company, keep trying to get information from the girls. That’s where the bulk of the tips have been coming from, after all.”
Bruno nods his head, once. His anger doesn’t seem at all abated, just swallowed. He’s pissed as hell that I dared to take one step toward “his turf”. Seems like a counterproductive attitude to me. If my getting access to Dante’s Nine helps the case, shouldn’t he be thrilled that I’m making progress? His swollen ego is preventing him from seeing what an asset I could be to this investigation. I’ll just have to go ahead and prove how valuable I can be.
“Keep up the good work, both of you,” Mitchell concludes, “I can feel us getting closer to a break here. In a couple weeks’ time, we could be pressing charges and saying goodbye to these clubs forever.”
“A couple weeks?” I ask, taken aback. “That’s it?”
“That’s my timeline,” Mitchell confirms, “Shouldn’t take longer than that to turn up any dirt, if there’s dirt to be found. If we can’t find anything to nail these guys on after another two weeks, we’ll need to back off and reevaluate. So get cracking, both of you. No time to waste.”
Bruno and I turn to go in unison. The bull of a man charges past me through the office door, but this time I hold my ground. I’m through letting him bully me. We’re both federal agents, after all. He’s not entitled to any more respect because he happens to be a man, or because he has a couple of decades on me. We were both brought onto this case for a reason—because we could do good work. And that’s just what I intend to do.