Weird, though, because they certainly felt like tears.
She hurried through the monstrosity that was his house.
He trailed after her. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“Nope. I already arranged for a ride to come and pick me up. Don’t worry, the pickup location is a few blocks from here. Not like I’d leave a trail that led straight to your door. I get that I can’t be seen getting picked up from your place.”
“I can take you?—”
She spun around. “I’m good.” Her purse was still over her shoulder. “I have a gun in my bag, and believe me, I know how to use it.”
“You are good.” He nodded. His hands fisted at his sides. “Thanks for some truly stellar fucking.”
Oh. Maybe you were supposed to thank someone for orgasms. Her head inclined toward him. “Thank you for the best climaxes I’ve ever had.” Way better than the ones she got with her vibrator.
His jaw dropped.
“See you in another life, Cass.” She left him. Deliberate steps. With her shoulders thrown back. Her head up. Her high heels clicking. She walked out of his place. Careful, unhurried steps. She crossed the street. The sidewalk. She dipped between buildings.
After a short walk, she found her ride waiting.
She got inside and when she glanced over to the right, just before the car pulled away…
Cass was watching her from the side of the road. Hands shoved in his pockets. Dark sunglasses over his eyes. But she felt his stare. He’d followed her. Watched over her until she got into the car. Such a protective thing for a bad guy to do.
Her hand lifted toward the glass of her window.
And she left him.
He’d followed her. Fuck, yeah, call him a stalker, but he had. Not like it was the best neighborhood in Atlanta, and she’d been wearing those too high heels and the short skirt, and so what if it was barely six a.m. and most people weren’t out?
He’d wanted to make sure she got to her ride safely.
Even villains could do a random good deed every now and again. And it wasn’t even that good of a deed. He’d just shadowed the woman a bit. After all, when a lady gave you the best fucking of your life, you at least made sure she got to her car safely.
You held onto her. You didn’t let her go. You chained her to your bed, and you kept her there.
He swallowed. FBI Agent Agnes Quinn was not for him. He wasn’t looking for commitment. Not forever. Nothing permanent.
She was gone. He’d get back to business.
And…
Who the hell took a knife to her? The scars on her bothered the hell out of him. Seven times. Seven stabs with a knife. He’d kissed each scar during the night.
She hadn’t told him who’d hurt her. She also hadn’t told him if the prick was in the ground.
Not his concern. Check, but…
Would doing a small bit of digging hurt anything? He didn’t think so.
The car was gone. Time for him to move on. He had deals to make. Payback to dish out. Rivals to trample. The same old, same old.
And yet…
He could still smell her on his skin.
He would not be forgetting his night with Agnes anytime soon.
