10. Sophie
10
Sophie
I thought I could put Maverick behind me, especially after our last encounter. I’d left him as a red-faced, flustered ball of hormones, and landed in my ex’s bed—who was now back on the kick that there was something between us.
But, of course, Maverick seemed to know everything about my life at all times, so I shouldn’t have been shocked when a delivery man stopped me on my way into the precinct to hand me a gorgeous display of black dahlias. An ominous note from Maverick was attached, which left me swallowing bile and afraid of whatever wrath may be coming my way.
Naturally, I assumed Maverick would reach out to me again soon, or wind up in the same restaurant as me, or follow me down some random alleyway, or… fuck, I don’t know, anything.
I tried so fucking hard to forget him. I buried myself in work, stayed the hell away from New York, and ignored the fact that my ever-present security guards were dwindling one at a time. Which I hated, because I was beginning to like them. They made me feel safe… special.
Ugh, what was wrong with me? This was like some sort of twisted Stockholm Syndrome—minus the forced proximity.
I might not know Maverick in the slightest, but I got the sense that his goons wouldn’t let a hand so much as touch me. Having them there was him marking his territory. That thought—that feeling— had me squirming whenever I thought of it.
But now that that sense of security was gone, I was angry. Pissed. And if I was honest, a little insecure. He shut down the second I questioned his offer, found my blade to his throat a cute little hat trick, and threatened me with a bouquet of flowers.
I thought that maybe he was disgusted by me reacting the way I did when I was in his lap. But, no, I’d seen firsthand, felt it, when he was turned on.
I just knew the insecure part of me who struggled to love parts of herself said otherwise. She was my worst enemy— I was my own worst enemy.
Always had been.
After weeks of silence, and on the day I realized no one was following me anymore, I snapped. It had been a month, dammit, and he was acting uninterested in me. Which couldn’t be true. He started following me for a reason, and I knew he wasn’t done.
He was playing games. Had to be. No way would he go from fucking stalking me to not caring. He’d approached me to off one of his men. No way was he done.
I stormed down the dimly lit hallway of the precinct, my footsteps echoing with purpose. Without hesitation, I barged into Marcus’s office, my eyes zeroing in on him as he sat at his desk, a warm and welcoming grin plastered on his face.
“Detective Reyes,” he greeted me, his voice smooth and gentle. “You look lovely as always.”
I gave him a warm smile; he’d always had a crush on me. But I ignored his flirtatious tone and got straight to the point. “I need a favor.”
Marcus leaned forward, seemingly unfazed by my brusque demeanor. “Anything for you. What do you need?”
“I need you to track someone’s phone and send it to my app,” I said tensely.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s easy enough. What case are you working on?”
Thinking quickly, I fabricated a story. “It’s still in the early stages, but I have a promising lead. The suspect is Maverick Mercer, owner of a nightclub in New York.”
Without missing a beat, Marcus began typing away on his computer. After a few moments, a red triangle flashed on his screen. “Is this him?” he asked, turning the screen toward me.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw Maverick’s black and white driver’s license photo staring back at me. Twenty-nine years old. Quite accomplished for his age. “Yes,” I managed to say, my voice catching in my throat.
“It’s already on its way to your phone,” Marcus said cheerfully.
Grateful for his efficiency, I gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “Thank you so much. And please, can we keep this between us?”
Confusion flickered in Marcus’s eyes before he nodded. “Of course, everything okay?”
“Absolutely,” I replied with an unconvincing smile. “I just don’t want to spook him this early on in the investigation. He’s a powerful man with a lot of influence.”
Technically not a lie.
I couldn’t tell Marcus the truth—that I had just abused my power, and not for the first time, as a cop so I could get information for personal reasons.
***
I tracked Maverick’s location like a scorned ex-girlfriend for two freaking days. Staring at my screen and that little moving dot was an addiction. Couldn’t stop myself from monitoring how long he spent at certain locations.
But then, on Friday night, I decided to venture into New York City. For no real reason. None at all. Not like I’d run into him in such a big city. By complete accident, because no, I was not stalking him! And I was absolutely not wearing a flattering blue dress that was the same color as his eyes—all dark and sexy.
I was walking along the sidewalk, glancing down at my phone, when suddenly his little dot stopped. I was only a few blocks from him, having kept a safe distance, but I immediately recognized the location. La Petite Jolie. A fancy French restaurant I’d been to myself on dates before. I knew exactly how intimate it was, and I was most definitely not okay with it.
I fumed down the few blocks separating us, trying not to throw a jealous fit. Pulling the doors open, I paused at the hostess stand. She arched a brow.
“Reservation for Mercer,” I told her, praying she wouldn’t question it.
“Mr. Mercer’s guest is already here. I have a party of—”
“Three,” I interrupted. “I would know. I made the reservation.” Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it.
She gave me a judgmental look. “But I have two—”
“It’s three , if you catch my drift.” I winked at her, and her face flushed a deep red.
“Oh. Right. So sorry. Your party is in the back, by the windows.”
“Thank you.”
I spotted him right away, his dark waves pushed back so sexily it made my ovaries lurch. I watched as he smiled at a gorgeous, dark-skinned woman. Yeah, that was jealousy rearing its head right now. I closed the distance between us before I could talk myself out of it, coming to a stop by the table and leaning down to press a kiss to Maverick’s cheek. His breath hitched, his body going rigid beneath me, muscles coiled like he wasn’t sure whether to pull away or pull me closer.
“So sorry I’m late, babe,” I said sweetly, giving him an unhinged, devious grin as I asked the next table over to borrow a chair. They nodded and I scooted the chair next to Maverick, sliding my hand over his thigh. Between the disbelief on his face and the perplexed look on hers, I knew I was going to have fun. My adrenaline was pumping, concealing any reservations I might have had over crashing their date.
“Sorry, I guess I’m confused. Late for what?” The other woman looked between the two of us as Maverick’s left hand slid over mine left and squeezed, urging me to look at him. That subtle squeeze only sent a lick of desire through me.
I feigned innocence as I responded, “For the interview.” She just blinked at me. I gave her an incredulous laugh. “You know… to be a swinger for us whenever we want it.” Maverick choked on his glass of wine. I finally glanced at him before turning my attention back to the other woman, who now appeared horrified. “You are here for that, aren’t you?”
“I was under the impression—”
“You see,” I interrupted her, a smile splitting my face as I took joy in her discomfort. “Mav and I have been discussing this for a while now, but we always get caught up on the same details. I’m not sure I want his tongue on another woman when I’d really prefer him to only taste me, but I’d love the feeling of having cocks in two holes at once, ya know?” Lies. Anal scared the fuck out of me, let alone two men at once, but she didn’t need to know that.
The other woman’s dark cheeks flushed as she gaped at me.
“Just to feel the fullness of it,” I continued. “But Mav can’t stand the idea of another man touching me. So we go in circles, and we decided to finally interview people to see what will work for us. And here we are.”
Holy fuck, where did that come from?
Maverick’s hand tightened to the point of pain as Priscilla cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m sorry, this isn’t—I’m not interested in that. I’m gonna… go. Mavy, nice to see you.” She practically bolted from her chair, and the second she was gone, I went to release Maverick, but he held me firmly, glaring at me with so much intensity I thought I might combust on the spot.
“Sophie,” he growled. “What the actual fuck was that?”