Chapter 13
JOSIE
Stone briefs me after Church, spreading Steel’s evidence across the desk in his office like a war map.
It’s damning. Timestamps, facial recognition, audio clips of Caruso discussing shipments. Steel’s done incredible work—the kind of work that would make federal prosecutors weep with joy.
“This is solid,” I say, flipping through the printouts. “Steel’s wasted as a prospect. You should kick him out so he can become a CIA operative.”
“Don’t tell him that. His head’s big enough.” Stone leans against the desk, watching me work. “Can your contact use it?”
“If she’s still the same Alex I remember? Then yeah. She’ll build a cathedral out of this evidence and burn Caruso at the altar.” I pull out my phone. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“You want me to stay?”
“I want you to watch.” I meet his eyes. “You should see what you’re getting with me.”
His expression flickers—curiosity, maybe. Or heat. Hard to tell with him sometimes.
He settles into the chair across from me, arms crossed, and nods.
I dial.
Agent Alexandra Pilkin picks up on the third ring.
“Josie Bright.” Her voice is friendly but there’s a question in it. “It’s been a while.”
“Two years.” I lean back in Stone’s chair, letting the leather creak. “How’s the husband?”
“Divorced. How’s the small-town lawyer gig? I heard you got pulled into some white collar crime with a touch of local cartel. Sounds like it hasn’t been the restful change you were searching for.”
“That’s actually why I’m calling.”
“I’m listening.”
I let the pause stretch just long enough to build anticipation. “How badly does the Bureau want Vincent Caruso?”
The silence on the other end is deafening. I can practically hear her sitting up straighter.
“What do you know?” Alex’s question is sharp. The voice of an agent who’s suddenly very, very interested.
“What if I told you I have evidence sitting on my desk that you and your team might want.” I examine my nails casually, even though she can’t see me. “Enough to build a case that’ll stick.”
“You’re telling me you have actionable intelligence on one of the most wanted men in the country, and you’re just... calling me up to chat about it?”
“I trust you. But, I also need a guarantee in return.”
“Of course you do.” I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “What’s the ask, Josie?”
“Full immunity for my clients. The people who obtained this footage are civilians caught up in his operation. They’ve been threatened, targeted, nearly killed.” I glance at Stone, who’s watching me with an unreadable expression. “I want protection for them. Complete insulation from any blowback.”
“That’s a big ask.”
“It’s a big case.” I let steel enter my voice—the same steel that made defense attorneys flinch when I was prosecuting in Atlanta.
“Alex, I know exactly what Caruso means to the Bureau. I know how long you’ve been chasing him, and I know how many careers have stalled because no one can pin him down.
” I pause. “I’m offering you the chance to be the agent who finally takes him down.
The one whose name goes in the history books. ”
“And all you want is immunity for some civilians?”
“That’s all I want.”
“The footage would need to be verified—”
“It will be. Public-facing security systems with inadequate encryption. Chain of custody is clean. Nothing that won’t hold up in court.” I’ve already run through the legal angles in my head—twice. “This is gift-wrapped, Alex. All you have to do is take it.”
Another pause. Longer this time. I can hear her breathing, can almost hear the gears turning in her head.
“I’ll need to talk to my superiors,” she finally says. “And the lawyers.”
“You have twelve hours.”
“Josie—”
“Twelve hours. After that, I start making other calls.” I let a hint of steel creep into my tone. “The ATF has been sniffing around for a win for months. I’m sure they’d love a shot at Caruso. Or maybe the DEA—I heard whispers they’ve been feeling left out lately.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“Try me.” I smile, even though she can’t see it. “Twelve hours. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
I end the call and let out a breath.
Stone is staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“That was...” He shakes his head slowly. “Impressive doesn’t cover it.”
“I used to do this for a living.”
“Yeah, but watching you do it...” He uncrosses his arms, pushing out of the chair, moving toward me with intent in his eyes. “Watching you take control like that. Bend a federal agent to your will with nothing but words.”
“Are you turned on right now?”
“Incredibly so.”
Heat floods through me. “The door—”
“Is locked.” His mouth brushes my ear. “I locked it when the call started. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Just in case I needed to do this.”
He drops to his knees, pulls down my sweats, and ravishes me.
Apparently assertive women are his kink. Good to know.
He gets me off quickly and surges back up, kissing me until the taste of my orgasm decorates my tongue. I’m trembling, nerve endings sparking, but instead of sating me, the orgasm made me hungrier.
I want more. I want to feel the weight of him in my hand, want to know what sounds I can drag out of that controlled mouth. I need Stone.
Now.
“Boone.” I push against his chest until he straightens. “I believe I mentioned collecting on a debt.”
His eyes darken. “Josie—”
“Sit down.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue. Then, slowly, he backs up until his legs hit the leather couch against the wall. He sits.
I stand, crossing to him with deliberate slowness, watching his eyes track my every movement. My pulse pounds between my thighs, still swollen and sensitive from his mouth. But this isn’t about me anymore.
I’ve been imagining this for weeks. What he looks like underneath all that leather and control. How he’ll feel against my tongue. Whether I can make the president of the Stoneheart MC lose that iron composure.
I’m soaked, already aching for him once more. I move, and we both hear the soft slick of my thighs. His gaze darkens, his mouth twisting into a feral grin.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
“You’ve been taking care of me,” I say, stopping between his spread knees. “Now it’s my turn.”
I sink to my knees between his thighs, and his breath catches.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I hold his gaze as my good hand goes to his belt. “I’ve been thinking about this constantly. About what you’d look like. What you’d feel like. What sounds you’d make.”
“Josie...”
“Let me take care of you.” I work his belt open one-handed, then his zipper. “The way you’ve been taking care of me.”
He lifts his hips to help me free him, and then he’s there—hard and thick and already straining toward me. I wrap my good hand around him, feeling him pulse against my palm.
“God,” he breathes.
“You’re beautiful.” I stroke him slowly, learning his shape. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“No.”
“They should have.” I lean forward and press a kiss to the tip—just a whisper of contact.
He groans like I’ve wounded him.
“Patience,” I murmur. “I’m not rushing this.”
I explore him slowly, tracing the veins with my tongue, learning what makes him gasp. When I finally take him into my mouth, his hand flies to my hair.
“Fuck—” The word is torn from him. “Your mouth—Josie—”
I set a deliberate rhythm, taking him deeper with each stroke. His hips twitch beneath me, fighting the urge to thrust, his hand trembling where it’s gently tangled in my hair. Even this close to losing it, he’s still taking care of me, mindful of the still healing scars.
“Look at me,” I say, pulling back just enough to speak. “I want you to watch.”
His eyes meet mine—dark, desperate, burning with need—as I take him deep again. I hollow my cheeks, suck hard, and his head falls back with a moan.
“Josie—close—you should—”
I don’t pull back. Instead, I take him deeper, swallowing around him, working him with everything I have. He comes with a shout, his release flooding my mouth. I take everything he gives me, gentling my touch as he comes down.
When I finally let him slip from my lips, he looks wrecked. Absolutely destroyed.
“Get up here.” His voice is hoarse. He hauls me into his lap, crushing his mouth to mine. “That was—you’re—Christ.”
I smile against his lips. “Good?”
“Good doesn’t begin to cover it.” He cups my face in his hands, his expression suddenly serious. “I love you.”
The words hit me like a physical force. Everything stops.
My breath. My heart. The spinning of the earth on its axis.
I search his face for the tell—the flicker of regret, the backpedal already forming.
But there’s nothing. Just Boone, looking at me like I’m the answer to a question he’s been asking his whole life.
My throat tightens. No one has ever said those words to me. God they sound incredible.
“I know it’s fast,” he continues. “And you’ll probably think it’s just the dopamine talking.”
“Well I did just give you a superior blow job,” I force myself to joke around the lump in my throat.
“But I’ve been falling for you since the day you walked into my clubhouse and told me my legal strategy was shit.”
“It was shit.” But my voice is shaking. “You were planning to threaten a judge.”
“And you showed me a better way.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “You’ve been showing me a better way ever since.”
“Boone...”
“You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know.”
I pull him down and kiss him with everything I have.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his lips. “I think I’ve loved you for months. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”
His smile is like sunrise—warm and bright and full of promise.
“Two more weeks,” he says. “Two more weeks until that cast comes off. And then, Josie, I’m going to show you exactly what loving you means.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’m counting on it.”