Frank, the other officer, keeps my purse held in his paw of a hand. He hesitates when I hold out my hand to take it. “You really don’t know who could have done this?”
“No. If I did, I’d tell you.”
“Have you mentioned anything to anyone?” Cory prods. “Maybe the Secret Service?”
Is this why I’ve been detained for so long? The police dick-measuring with the Secret Service? Hoping I’d break and tellthem something that some of the best-trained protection in the country wouldn’t know?
Granted, they’re not exactly stellar at their job. I was almost shot today, and according to Dad, they’re supposed to patrol my block every hour at random times.
Seriously, they had one fucking job…
“Do you have a card?” I ask, eager to end this and get out of here. “I’ll call you directly if anything comes up.”
“Please do.” Frank fishes in his pocket for a business card.
Does he not realize that, if something does come up, I’d be in Maryland and they might have jurisdiction over this? Gee, I love the idea of maybe dying and the police being more worried about who gets to handle my murder and receive the glory if they find my killer.
Our tax dollars at work.
Taking the card, I jam it into my purse and walk past the detectives, who I catch staring at my ass in the reflective glass as I leave.
Itisa phenomenal ass.
Tristan’s already waiting for me outside with his truck a couple of cardboard boxes stacked in the truck bed, high enough to block his view.
“I need food,” I immediately tell him as I circle my arms around his waist for a hug. He cuddles me against his chest. His smoky bourbon cologne is a comfort compared to the dusty, chemical smell in the station. I stink from it too. “And I need a shower.”
Tristan plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll take you anywhere you want for food,” he says as he pulls back and opens the passenger door for me. “And I’ll join you for that shower when we get home.”
“Food and shower sex?” I say as I sidle into the passenger seat. “You know how to spoil a girl.”
Tristan doesn’t close the passenger door. Instead, he swoops down and presses a soft kiss on my lips. “No, Princess. I know how to spoil my woman.” He reaches over and grabs the seatbelt. He drags it across my body, clicking it into place beside my hip. He gives the strap between my breasts a firm tug.
His eyes darken as his gaze locks onto my tits for a moment.
They are fantastic tits.
Tristan clears his throat, his cheeks blushing from getting caught staring. “So, Princess, where are we going for dinner?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TRISTAN
When they say “ride or die,”I didn’t think they meant literally. Daphne’s blasting Kesha through Bluetooth in my truck and dancing around with her shoes off as she munches on the lukewarm fries from Burger King. Part of me is worried that we might die either from a crazed assassin that could be tailing us, or from me not being able to keep my eyes on the road because they’re glued to my girlfriend’s tits bouncing to pop music.
The second option might be a sweet death for me, but ghost-me would never forgive myself if something happened to Daphne.
Forcing my eyes back onto the road is a Herculean task, but I manage and deserve a participation trophy for keeping my eyes off her body.
Today’s been an absolute nightmare since the moment we woke up. Leaving her in a police station alone for hours was the exact opposite of what I needed to get through today. I needed her. I needed to touch her, and hold her, and know down to the marrow of my bones that Daphne was safe. But she was carted off like a criminal and kept inthe police station for the entire afternoon. I drove her stuff to my house, along with Hawkeye. Tessa’s babysitting Hawkeye now, but I need to get out of this truck and get Daphne alone.
The hours waiting for her to call, to tell me she’s alright, were maddening. With each second that passed, my imagination went wild.What if Ghost broke into the police station? What if they’d bribed an officer to hurt her? What if they were charging her with the dead agent on her lawn?
The not-knowing was driving me to the brink of insanity before I was finally allowed to come get her.
After the hell of today, I need to touch her, to feel her, to know she’s safe and that she’s alright.
Thoughts of showering with her haven’t slipped my mind. I want to scrub this day off our skin and watch it go down the drain before I go down on her. The world makes sense when my head’s between Daphne’s thighs. I plan on making sure she’s physically exhausted tonight so she can sleep soundly in my arms.
