Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Either something Samuel’s caller says pisses him off, or our hot-and-heavy make-out session amuses him. He grunts before his boots click against the tiles separating the hallway from the entrance. “I’m heading out.” His voice becomes distant during his next sentence. “If she has an issue with my decision, she can tell me so herself.”
It takes three seconds for Grayson’s tongue to stop lashing mine, then another three seconds for him to remove it from my mouth. I’d question his implied reluctance if every word he speaks next weren’t gospel. “We’re at the right location.”
21
GRAYSON
Although part of me wants to tail Samuel, I instead guide Macy toward the room where the Lamaze class is being held. Something tells me the answers we’re seeking will be more prevalent here. Samuel is a paid goon, nothing more. At best, we could turn him into an informant. But for now, that will gobble up time we don’t have.
We need answers, and I’m not leaving this building until I get them.
As we enter a room that smells like massage oil and old yoga mats, the memory of Macy’s lips on mine and the moans she released play through my head like an X-rated movie. Our kiss was supposed to be another part of our undercover sting, a mandatory act to maintain our cover when Brandon warned we were seconds from having it blown, but the instant our lips locked, nothing else mattered.
I can still smell the freshness of her breath and recall the softness of her lips when our lips brushed. How she melted into me and made me hard enough for my zipper to leave an indent in my cock. It was an intoxicating kiss, and the rush of emotions it brought forward overwhelmed me.
I was caught off guard, all my objectives forgotten. All I could think about was Macy and the way she tasted, and how I’d give anything for a second helping.
We hadn’t even finished kissing, yet I was already planning ways to do it again.
It felt so surreal that I wonder if there was more to it. I’d give it more thought if there weren’t over two dozen pairs of eyes gawking at us. The Lamaze class is full of expectant couples who are more interested in our late arrival than the instructor’s words at the front.
“Sorry we’re late.”
The instructor, a woman with an impassive demeanor and a soothing voice, accepts my apology with a brief chin dip before she gestures for us to gather a rolled-up mat from a stack by the wall and join the group.
As we do as asked, Macy and I exchange a glance, our eyes communicating the unspoken tension. We’re not here to learn how to breathe through labor, although I highly recommend that Macy consider a class like this down the track. We’re here to find a perp she’s been tracking for months.
The stakes are high, and the pressure is palpable.
“All right, everyone, time to get back to our breathing exercises.” The instructor’s voice cuts through the murmured chatter of attendees like a hot knife through butter. She’s good at her job, and although I will give her background a more thorough search tonight, her name is nowhere near the top of my list. “Inhale through your nose and hold it for two seconds before exhaling through your mouth.”
As we move through the exercises, I scan the room, my eyes bouncing between couples. We’re looking for someone who fits the profile but also doesn’t stand out. The perps we’re seeking are cunning. They can blend in with a crowd and are often the last person you’d suspect.
“Great. Wonderful. Now let’s try some partner exercises.”
The instructor demonstrates what she means to a couple of students at the front of the class before telling the rest of the class to follow suit. Macy and I position ourselves so her back rests against my chest, and my arms curl around her midsection. The tension in her body melds into mine as she leans in. I could be pompous and brush it off as a side effect of our kiss, but I wasn’t lying when I said Macy is a brilliant agent. Her flushed skin is about more than our ten-minute grind-up.
“What is it?”
As she focuses on the tempo of her breaths, as instructed, she whispers, “Three o’clock. Walmart shoes, holey, stained shirt, and appearing days from popping.” She can’t see my eyes, but she knows the exact moment my gaze lands on a woman I’d guess to be in her late teens or early twenties. “Times are tough, but her partner’s shoes alone could fund a new wardrobe. And don’t get me started on his watch.” She breathes out heavily, hiding my shocked gasp when my eyes zoom in on the collector timepiece circling the stranger’s wrist.
Although I believe Macy is on the money, my many years undercover have made me skeptical. “Selfishness is very much a trait of relationships these days.”