“Any woman would be stupid to not carry in a neighborhood like this,” I sneered, attempting to play off his discovery that I was a cop.
He hummed, a low sound that was way too primal when a gun was pointed at my head. He inclined his chin toward the brick building to my right. “Hands against the wall.”
I scoffed, my lips peeling back to protest when he stepped forward, crowding into my space and pressing the cool, hard gun barrel to my forehead. My throat worked itself up and down before I jerked a nod and followed his instructions. My hands flattened against the wall, my fingernails curling into the rough surface. A shaky exhale fell from my lips as I awaited my punishment. Surely he wouldn’t shoot me execution-style.
Right?
“Well, well,” he rasped, his tone gravelly. “What’s this?”
With one hand holding the gun against the nape of my neck, the other snaked around my front and tugged my badge until the clasp snapped. I flinched as the weight fell off me, the lightness unfamiliar. Mr. Suit stepped closer, until his chest was flush against my back. He kicked my feet further apart, pressing a leg between my thighs and pinning me with his hips, effectively trapping me.
And yet, even though this man was a stranger and I was in a compromising position, his proximity and scent of cedar and cloves had heat flooding my core. My pulse quickened. I could feel his warmth, a stark contrast from the gun barrel, but I suddenly didn’t care that a stranger was standing so close to me. He could kill me if he wanted to. But there was an underlying thrill in that fear. A spike of adrenaline that turned me on.
A part of me I’d fought to keep hidden my whole life.
“Detective with the Newark Police Division? What brings you all the way here?” His question seemed simple enough, but it was laced with danger.
“Visiting an old friend,” I managed.
He stepped away, the gun lowering, and I breathed a sigh full of relief and… disappointment?Dios mio, I’m fucking deranged.“Turn around.” I obeyed. He cocked a dark eyebrow, and his eyes somehow grew darker than the night that surrounded us—dark with recognition. I almost wanted to stick around to find out what that look meant. “You should really be careful about how you present yourself, Sophie Reyes. There are some people around here who know your family’s history and aren’t as forgiving about it as I am right now.”
I blinked in surprise and stumbled back. He followed me, his demeanor threatening… predatory. When he was close enough, he held my badge out with his palm up. Tentatively, I took it from him, my fingertips brushing his hand, and that heat pooling in my stomach unfurled a little more. His hands were large and felt calloused. I shivered, and it made his lips curl up in another sexy smirk.
“Consider this a warning, Detective. And if you decide to come around here again, it better be under two conditions: unarmed, andonlyto see me. Understand?”
I didn’t know what this man would ever want from me, had no idea who he was or how he knew my identity and that I was armed. But I didn’t give myself a chance to ask him, merely muttered, “Yes, sir.” His responding dark look had me turning on my heel and sprinting to my car without looking over my shoulder.
2
Maverick
Sophie Reyes sped down the street in an inconspicuous black sedan, a car that seemed too simple, too at odds with the stubborn look on her face when she tried to defy me. I watched her the whole time with a painfully hard erection as I thought about the terrified look in her eyes, which only pissed me off because the last thing I should be feeling is any kind of attraction to her at all.
She was explicitly off limits, and here she was slinking through Queens—one of my assigned territories—like she was on a mission. A dangerous one at that, if the murderous look on her face as she stalked toward Victor Chavez’s stoop had anything to do with it.
Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from demanding to know who the hell she was.
Then I saw her badge dangling from her neck. The only young female detective I knew from Newark who may poke aroundQueens was the one and only Sophie Reyes: daughter and unknowing heiress to her father’s cartel. Word on the street was she could waltz in whenever she wanted and stake her claim on his empire. The one my family now ran.
That is, if she ever found out.
Her whole life had been influenced in some way or another by her father’s loyal servants, even long after his death. They aided in the direction of her career, how much or how quickly she advanced, and so on. It was fucked up how deep it went, actually. The poor woman was just trying to create a name for herself, and instead, her father’s perfectly curated vision for her life superseded her every move.
And she had no idea. She could find out the truth one day and decide to take it all away in an act of revenge.
That’s what made her so fucking dangerous. Why I should never had interacted with her, or held a gun to her head, or pressed her against a wall and touched her in borderline inappropriate ways.
Not like she minded it. She clearly had a thing for being manhandled, or maybe her life being in danger turned her on. Maybe both. Her flushed cheeks and pert nipples were a dead giveaway.
The thought only made my dick pulse as I contemplated what else she liked—
Shut. It. Down.
I forced myself to wonder if she was finally coming to step into her role, and if I’d just accidentally angered the one woman who could take everything from me and my family.
Christ.
Tucking my gun back into the waistband of my pants, I pulled my phone out and dialed my head of security, Duane. He answered on the first ring.
