“Yep, I’m ready when you are. My bag is by the garage door.” I dart off, find my heels, which are under the bed somehow—not exactly sure how that happened. I’m bent over, reaching for them when Slade smacks my ass. I barely hold myself from falling over.
“I thought you said you were ready?”
“Did you hide my shoes?” I say as I grab my shoes, hop on one foot to put one on and then the other, all while Slade watches with a smirk on his face.
“Now, why would I do that?”
“Because you’re Slade, and you like to get your hands on my ass any chance you can get?” I roll my eyes.
“You know it,” he replies and walks out of the room. I follow him the entire way down, scoping out his body from the back and enjoying every moment of it. I have a feeling tonight will be the icing on my cake.
“Hold on, let me take something out for dinner. Anything particular you feel like having?” I ask.
There’s a gleam in his eye, and I know what he’s thinking, completely. It’s written all over his face.
“Nope.” The ‘p’ pops, then he’s licking his lips as he saunters over to me, grabbing me by the hips while lifting me and placing me on the counter. My skirt hikes up, all the way until he can see what I have underneath my skirt, as he steps between my now spread legs. “Goddamn, look at you. All professional suit wearing, but when I unwrap you, it’s a gift just for me.”
“You can’t say stuff like that to me, let alone do this to me right before work. I’ll be wet and aching for you all day,” I admit. Slade places my palm on the bulge in his slacks. I grab a hold of him, being bolder, while his fingers slowly trace the lace of my panties.
“I’ll be rock hard all day while I’m working too, especially knowing what you’re wearing underneath these clothes,” he groans, sweeping his finger underneath my panties, finding my clit. He barely grazes it, before pulling away then helping me down off the counter.
“I don’t care what we eat, as long as it’s not full of nothing but carbs.” His face has a smile.
“So that’s a no to chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and corn?” I smart off.
“You cook it, I’ll eat it, but maybe add something in the green vegetable family?” I was kidding when I said I’d make nothing but food with carbs. Instead, I maneuver around him, open the freezer, and find the Mahi we picked up this weekend. It would be counterproductive to eat like crap after working out.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I place it in the fridge to thaw, then we head out the door.
Eleven
Slade
I walk into the office of Nighthawk with Bridger and Drake hot on my heels. “We stopped by Taylor’s house on our way in this morning, and you’re not going to like what we have to show you,” Drake says with a serious tone.
“Yeah, seems like the stalker is hitting harder than ever now,” Bridger pipes in.
“Any prints?” I look at Drake. I know he’s got his eye on someone in the lab.
“Nada, I will say this guy seems to be escalating. I’m not sure I’d say one word to Taylor about the content of this letter. It’s completely and entirely fucked up six ways to Sunday,” Drake says seriously.
“I guess it’s time for me to read it.” I fist my hair in my hand, knowing this is going to be a Monday I fucking loathe.
“Yep, you may want to pour yourself a shot of whiskey too,” Bridger says as we walk into my office.
“Fuck,” I groan. If things get worse, I’ll have to put a call into Travis. There are certain things I can keep from him, but something like this, there’s no way I’d do that to him.
Bridger makes me a cup of coffee, then puts a healthy splash of whiskey in it before handing it to me. There’s no fucking way I’d ever drink this at eight o’clock in the morning. I wave the drink away. Drake hands me the letter Taylor’s would-be-stalker left sometime during the night, leading me to realize I fucked up. “We need to put someone on her place around the clock now. This is too much. Last time, I’m pretty sure the dick put it in her bag when he knocked into her. The times before that, they were mailed. Where was this one?” I carefully handle the letter that’s in a plastic bag from the lab.
“Taped on her front door, so he or she is definitely escalating,” Bridger responds.
“What the fuck,” I breathe out as I read the letter
Dearest Taylor,
I know where you are. I know who you’re with. I’ve been watching you, and I’ll be seeing you, soon.