She wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him for days. But that’s not how Emerson rolled. She’d play things chill and keep the vibe lowkey.
He flashed her a chill smile, sending a hit of adrenaline through her. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
They stood too close, closer than two working professionals would stand. As he stared into her eyes, his expression turned primal and his pupils blackened. She glanced at his mouth, desperate to kiss him. But she was there on official police business and she needed to keep her hands—and her mouth—off him.
He gripped her shoulder and sparks whizzed through her. “Detective Easton, good to see you again.”
She loved the deep register of his voice, his relaxed cadence that set the mood. But she wasn’t fooled by his laid-back persona. That anger he carried in his soul poured out of him and she wanted to gobble it all up and get lost in him.
“How’s it going, Detective?” Tank asked.
“Going all right. You?”
“Ready for another rowdy evening,” Tank replied.
“I’ll be around if you need me,” Stryker said to Tank.
“I’m sure I will,” Tank said.
Stryker led her inside the club and toward the stairs.
“I can take the elevator,” she said. “And I need to question Mavis.”
After the scanner cleared him to enter and the doors closed behind them, he was on her. His mouth on hers, his arms enveloping her. He was all man, all testosterone, and all encompassing. She buried her fingers into his hair and tugged fistfuls of soft strands. Their kiss turned wild, his lusty groans making her weak in the knees.
The doors opened, their kiss ended. She tugged down her summer sweater, and stepped into the quiet, dimly-lit hallway on L3.
So much had changed in such a short amount of time. In less than a month, she’d felt things with him that she’d never felt with anyone else. She loved being in his life and sharing hers with him.
They stopped in front of Mavis’s closed office door. “She’s not expecting you.” Stryker knocked.
“C’mon in,” Mavis said.
Stryker pushed open the door and Emerson entered the smoky room.
A lit cigarette dangled from Mavis’s lips. She flicked her gaze from one to the other, then crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. “What’s up?”
“Detective Easton has more questions.”
Emerson sat in the guest chair. Stryker shut the door, leaned against the wall. She glanced over at him before addressing Mavis. “I heard you had a few days off,” she began. “Go anywhere fun?”
“Visited my son and his family at Virginia Beach.”
“Nice,” Emerson said. “I wanted to talk to you about Parker Sandler.”
“What about him?”
“Did you know he and April were friends?”
Mavis shook her head. “I’ve got over fifty employees. People rotate in and out monthly. Some nights I’m interviewing, other nights I’m letting someone go. I’m serving drinks or breaking up a fight. I have no idea who’s banging who.”
“What’s your impression of Parker?”
“He shows up on time, does his job. He calls out sick a coupla times a month with a migraine, which is a pain in my ass. I gotta find someone to work for him or do it myself.”
“Have any staff or members complained about him?”
