2. Maverick
2
Maverick
S ophie 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 around Queens 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woman was just trying to create a name for herself, and instead, her father’s perfectly curated vision for her life superseded her every move.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.
“What’s up, boss?” His deep timbre was thick with a Jersey accent.
“I need you to put a few guys on someone.”
“Sure thing. Who?”
I closed my eyes, knowing he would put the pieces together as soon as I told him. “Sophie Reyes. Detective in Newark. Third Precinct.”
“ The Sophie Reyes?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. I thought about her black hair and dark eyes framed by long lashes, her short frame and petite curves, how nice she smelled and how she rubbed her thighs together when she stepped away from me. Shit, stop thinking about that right fucking now.
“That would be the one. I want eyes on her at all times. I need to know what she’s up to outside of her job. I want to know when she leaves home and gets to work, where she goes for cases, and every fucking thing in between. Don’t. Lose. Sight,” I gritted out between clenched teeth, because my cock was still hard and aching for release and that was so goddamn infuriating because I could fuck whoever I wanted, and I somehow only wanted to fuck her right now.
“You got it. Dangerous?”
I stared at the wall I’d pressed her against. “Don’t know yet.”