All the Pretty Girls: A sexy FBI suspense thriller romance (The Next Generation Book 1)

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All the Pretty Girls: A sexy FBI suspense thriller romance (The Next Generation Book 1) Page 9

by Riley Edwards


  “I hate she feels that way. She told me about her hysterectomy. I didn’t tell her I already knew. That’s another thing, she feels like she has nothing to offer a man because she can’t have kids.”

  “Adopt.” Mike shrugged, mirroring my thoughts.

  “That’s what I told her She has options but can’t see past the fucking scar on her face. As if it matters - she’s still Meadow, and anyone that can’t see past it is a fucking fool.” Mike and Joel stood speechless staring at me with matching grins. “What?”

  “I know I asked you this before, but are you sure you’re ready for her? A woman like Meadow isn’t looking for a quick romp,” Joel asked.

  “I’ve had my fair share of women. I’ve never been a one-night stand kinda guy. I like knowing who I’m taking to my bed. But that’s not to say I haven’t done it. Am I ready to get married? Shit, I just met her, I can’t answer that. However, now that I know there is a Meadow Holiday out there in the world, I can’t stop thinking about her. I want to learn everything about her. Hell, I want her to know everything about me.”

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” Mike noted, unnecessarily I might add. I’d already known, but last night nailed the point home. I was going to have to battle it out.

  “Damn Boy Wonder, go big or go home, right?” Joel laughed.

  “She’s worth it,” I told them.

  “Then fight and don’t stop until you erase all the nonsense from her head. While talking about your lady love has been exciting, I got work to do. Mike, you coming?” Joel pushed away from our group and waited for Mike.

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” he answered, then said to me, “dig in deep. Dig in so fucking deep she can’t get you out.”

  I watched as the guys walked away and thought about what they’d both said. Mike was right. I was going to dig in so deep she’d never want to get me out.

  I grabbed my phone and pulled up the messaging app, opened a new text box, and put my plan into action.

  Me: Free for lunch?

  I’d decided last night I wasn’t going to play games. I wanted Meadow, and there was no sense in fucking about. I didn’t need to play it cool and wait a few days before I reached out and set up another date - Meadow didn’t need that either. She wasn’t the type of woman that you kept waiting.

  Meadow: Today?

  Me: Yes. Today.

  Meadow: You didn’t get enough of me being a blubbering mess last night? Are you a glutton for punishment or a closet masochist? FYI – I don’t know how to wield a whip.

  Damn, she was funny.

  Me: Lucky for you – I do.

  There was a pause before my phone beeped. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I opened the message.

  Meadow: I’m not sure if the flip-flop in my belly is because I should run and hide under my bed or if the thought of you with a whip is… exciting.

  Any hope I’d had to control my erection flew out the window. Fuck. I wasn’t into whips and chains but the thought of pinkening Meadow’s ass with my palm while I took her from behind was certainly…exciting.

  Me: I don’t think the guys would appreciate me walking around the office with a hard-on. Lunch? Can we continue to explore the option of leather goods over burgers? And just so you know – I’d find you if you ever tried to hide from me.

  Meadow: Yes to lunch. No to talking about this in person.

  Me: Why not in person?

  Meadow: I can be brave over text. I can tell you things without having to look you in the face and have you see me embarrassed or shy. IDK. It’s stupid.

  Damn. She was adorable.

  Me: Fair warning, there will be a time when this topic will have to be discussed face to face. Not real keen on the thought of you texting me while I’m enjoying your body, to tell me how much you like what I’m doing. I’ll be there in 30 mins to pick you up.

  As soon as I hit send I was a little worried my message was too crass, but when her response came back, she shocked the shit out of me.

  Meadow: What’s the equivalent of a hard-on for a woman? Because I’m that!

  Holy shit!

  Me: Wet. Red, are you wet for me?

  Meadow: It is too soon or forward if I say yes?

  Me: Fuck no! I’ll see you in 28 mins. And just so you’re prepared, I plan on kissing the hell out of you today.

  Meadow: Yippy! But don’t expect flirty Meadow when you get here.

  I couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped.

  “What’s so funny?” Mandy asked as she passed my desk.

  “Nothing,” I answered. Gauging the state of my dick, I decided I should stay seated with Mandy standing there.

  “Are you blushing?” she teased.

  “What? No.”

  Was I? Shit!

  “Your face is as red as your pretty woman’s hair,” she informed me.

  Damn. A hard-on and I was blushing. What the hell was wrong with me? She’d turned me into a sixteen-year-old boy that couldn’t control his body’s responses.

  “Did you need something? I’m leaving for lunch.” I didn’t mean to sound rude, but I couldn’t very well stand with Mandy there, and I wanted to get to Meadow.

  “Nothing that can’t wait until you get back. I reviewed the session with Meadow and have some thoughts about our unsub. Find me later.”

  “Will do.”

  The last thing I wanted to discuss before seeing Meadow for lunch was the case, though the mention of the unsub and Meadow’s recorded session did wonders defaulting my rigid dick.

  I waited for Mandy to walk away before I made my way out of the office. Once I was safely in the privacy of my car, I allowed my mind to wander back to Meadow’s text. She’d been turned on by our exchange. That was good to know; it gave me an idea how to ease her into a physical relationship. I’d never done it before, but I was a quick study. There was no doubt I’d pick up on the finer points of good old-fashioned phone sex in no time. My dick started to throb in my slacks at the mere thought of having Meadow touch herself at my command.

  Chapter 16

  XXX

  Nothing, I mean nothing, could pull me off the cloud I’d been floating on since Nick texted me. Not even Beth. She’d made one nasty comment after another today. This morning she was in her office when I got to work, which was unusual, but it did happen. However, today she made a point of coming out and greeting me; that had never happened. Before I had the chance to stow my purse, she’d started in. Where’d I meet Nick, what did he do, did I know how good-looking he was, people would stare when they saw us together and wonder what was wrong with him. She was relentless. I was getting ready to tell her to shove it up her ass when the boss came in, and she turned to sugar. The same way she always did. They’d gone into her office, and after he’d left, she stayed holed up in her bitch lair and hadn’t emerged since.

  Thank God!

  I had approximately two minutes until Nick said he’d be here to pick me up and my belly had decided now was the right time to start doing somersaults. I couldn’t believe I’d sent him those texts. I’d never admitted to a man I was turned on, and I certainly never texted like that. It wasn’t exactly sexting, but it was skirting from R to maybe one X on the XXX rating scale. I was kind of proud of myself. Not that I’d have the gumption to say anything like that to his face, but maybe I could flirt a little over text with him.

  I could smell his cologne before I looked up and saw him standing in front of my desk. Beth was right about one thing – he was damn good looking. Way out of my league. He filled out a suit with his broad shoulders and trim waist. I’d felt how strong his chest was and his thighs were just as muscular. He was a fitness model rolled up in an FBI agent package.

  “Red?” Nick chuckled. “You okay?”

  “Caught me staring,” I blurted.

  “I don’t mind one bit. I’m finding I love it when your pretty green eyes are on me,” he said.

  “Holy crap,” came from behind Nick. When
he turned, Rory came into view.

  Now she was more in his league, and suddenly I felt out of place. She was taller than me, had a killer body I knew she worked hard to keep, and her skin was flawless and made up perfectly. In short, she was everything I wasn’t. Whole.

  “Sorry.” Rory shook her head and put her hand out to Nick. “Hi. I’m Rory. Sorry to interrupt.”

  Nick took her hand and gently shook it before pulling it away and taking a step back, putting space back between them.

  “Nick Clark. Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Hey, Rory, what’s up?” I asked, not wanting to be rude but wanting this conversation to move along quickly.

  “I was coming down to see if you wanted to go to lunch with me and some of the girls,” Rory explained.

  “Sorry. I have plans, but thanks.”

  “If those plans include Mr. Clark here, I’d turn down the offer too.” She stopped to wink before she finished. “Enjoy lunch.”

  The way she said lunch had me rolling my eyes. She made it sound like lunch was code for a covert sex operation. Geeze. Not that I’d be entirely opposed to covert sex after Nick’s text but… Nick’s chuckle pulled me from my thoughts.

  “Thanks, we will,” he answered.

  “Meadow!”

  Holy shit, what now? My desk was turning into Grand Central Station. All I wanted was to escape this place and enjoy my lunch hour with hot Nick, but now Queen Bitch Beth was bellowing my name as if there was a football field between us and not twenty feet.

  “Yes, Beth?”

  “I need the Hoppers file when you get back from lunch,” she demanded.

  “No problem.”

  I didn’t bother waiting for a reply. I pulled my bag out of the bottom drawer of my desk and yanked when the strap caught on the metal, causing the cheap leather to tear.

  “Crap!” I picked up my now broken purse and secured it under my armpit, determined to get the hell out of the office.

  “I told you, you need to stop buying those cheap knock-offs and invest in a high-quality purse. My Coach bag would never rip like that,” Beth chastised.

  “Good for you,” I mumbled and made my way to Nick. “Save me. Hurry, let’s run to the elevator before something else happens.”

  Nick’s answer was to lean down and brush his soft lips against mine, stopping to linger just a moment before looking at me. “I’ll always save you, Red. On three we’ll make a break for it.”

  I appreciated his humor and the accompanying smile made the shit Beth had slung, Rory’s appearance, and my broken purse melt away. Nick was here. We were going to get lunch together. And he’d promised to kiss the hell out of me.

  Best day!

  As soon as we got to the sidewalk, Nick grabbed my hand and held it on the short walk to the burger place. How could a gesture so small and normal feel so big? I was giddy at the contact, and it wasn’t because I hadn’t held a man’s hand in so long, it was because it was Nick. Last night after he went home, I’d plopped back down on my couch, picked up the throw pillow he had been leaning against, and held it to my face. In a total stalker move, I inhaled, breathing in his scent, and wondered what the hell I was doing kissing Nick. Albeit, it was only a peck, not a passion-fueled duel of the tongues. But still. I wondered if I was latching on to him because he’d extended a branch of hope and he was nice to me? Was I so desperate for attention I’d imagined things that weren’t there? After careful thought, I’d decided my attraction had nothing to do with my attack, the lack of affection, or anything else negative. It was simply because of him. I didn’t want him to save me; I wanted him to kiss me and touch me, and do all the other things he said he was going to do because I was a twenty-six-year-old woman. There was nothing wrong with what I was feeling toward him. And I’d also made up my mind to stop over-thinking everything. He’d said my scar didn’t bother him. I was going to believe him. I had to if I was ever going to escape the self-imposed prison I’d locked myself in.

  Bottom line? I was tired of feeling sorry for myself. Nick had opened my eyes to another way and now that they were opened I couldn’t bring myself to close them again.

  “You’re quiet,” Nick commented as he opened the door to the burger place offering me to enter.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be.” Damn. I was so used to being my myself I’d forgotten to talk. “I suck at small talk,” I admitted.

  “I’m not complaining. Is everything okay? Is Beth breathing down your neck?”

  “Yeah. But that’s nothing new.”

  The hostess greeted us and walked us to a booth. I sat and Nick slid in after me scooting close. The girl handed us our menus and told us the specials before heading back to her podium.

  “The boss came down and was in her office for a long time. She hadn’t come back out until we were leaving. I’m sure I’ll get an earful when we get back. The file she wants is one of the clients she lost.”

  “Hoppers? Isn’t that a restaurant?” he asked.

  “Yeah. A bar and grille type place. There are three of them in the area. They have a new point of service system they put online. It makes updates to the menu, pricing, and specials. It only has to be done at one location and is pushed through to the rest. She lost the account. All three bars. I heard the boss was pissed; it was a big account.”

  “I guess he would be.”

  The waitress came and took our order. Nick being the gentlemen he was had me order first. When we were done, the server smiled and hurried away. It was after she’d left the table that it dawned on me she hadn’t looked at Nick like there was something wrong with him. The hostess hadn’t either. Neither of them flinched at the sight of my face or made comments. All these years I’d let Beth’s words get in my head and take root, then it budded, and before I knew what was happening, a huge bush had grown. A big ugly bush of self-doubt and loathing. It wasn’t Beth’s fault; it was mine. I’d allowed it to happen.

  “Where’d you go?” Nick squeezed my knee, and when he released his grip, he kept it there. Finding I didn’t mind his hand on my leg; in fact, I loved it, I left it there.

  With the realization people were not looking at us or pointing at me, and with a new-found confidence, in a bold move I put my hand over his and smiled.

  “Nowhere. Tell me about Sally and how you got involved with Homefront.”

  Over lunch, Nick told me how after he’d gone home to Georgia a few years ago, he’d met one of his uncle’s friends, Brian, and his companion dog. His Uncle Nolan and Brian served in the Army together. Nick said after he’d listened to Brian tell his story of returning from deployment and separating from the Army and how hard it was to adjust back into civilian life, Nick knew he wanted to be involved. He explained because Brian didn’t have what the military considered PTSD, he hadn’t qualified for much help from the VA. A friend of Brian’s hooked him up with Homefront, and they’d paired him with a dog. That was all Brian needed, a small comfort; the loyalty of a dog and the security it brought to help ease his anxiety. Nick called Homefront as soon as he got back to Virginia and started his training immediately. Within two months, he had his first shepherd.

  The amount of training Nick had to go through to become a dog handler was crazy. I was so impressed by his hard work and dedication to both the Vets and the dogs. He’d already fostered four and Sally was his fifth. He was waiting for Petty Officer Gabe Rowling to recover from his latest surgery to take Sally. The placement was supposed to happen last month, but Gabe had a complication with his last surgery. Sally also required additional training. Gabe had complete hearing loss; while he could still speak, he was self-conscious about doing so and opted to learn ASL. Sally is trained in both verbal and hand commands, as well as trained to alert her owner of sounds and lights.

  She was a smart pup. I’d miss her, but knowing what Gabe was going to gain from her made me feel kind of bitchy for wishing Nick could keep her.

  Before I was ready, it was time to head back to work. Nick had snat
ched the bill from the table and the waitress was prancing away with Nick’s credit card, laughing as I tried to call her back over to take mine.

  He grabbed my hand the same way he had on the walk over and threaded his fingers between mine. Every couple of feet he’d bring our joined hands up to his lips and kiss the back of mine. I was surprised how small my hand was in his. That, of course, led to me scrutinizing his height. I only came up to his shoulder, and I was in a pair of strappy wedges giving me an extra couple of inches to my normal five-feet-five inches. His bulk, coupled with his height, made me feel safe walking next to him. He chatted about his buddies from the FBI, telling me he was the youngest agent of the bunch. I’d already guessed he was by the way all the other men in his unit were beginning to gray. I’d also assumed correctly we were about the same age. I was older than him by only a couple of months.

  “So, I’m a cradle robber?” I joked when we got to the elevator.

  “I’d hardly call a month and a half robbing the cradle.” He held his arm out for me to proceed and waited for the doors to close before he continued. “Have you ever made out with a younger man?” he asked.

  He turned, caging me in with his palms on the metal behind my head. I didn’t have a chance to think, let alone answer before his lips were on mine. It took a moment for the shock to wear off before I remembered to open my mouth when I felt his tongue grazing the seam of my lips.

  I opened, and he deepened the kiss, taking it from sweet to three-alarm hot in two seconds flat. Holy shit. My world was spinning, and I struggled to keep up. His tongue glided and twisted with mine, and I fought to catch my breath as he took what he wanted, forcing me to follow his lead. The elevator came to a stop, and Nick pulled away, using his thumb to wipe my lip.

  “Wow,” I whispered, trying to regain my composure.

  “Red?” he called.

  I had to blink several times before his face came into focus. “Yeah?”

  “The door’s open. Come on.”

  He tugged me close to him and guided us off the elevator into the reception area. He stopped but didn’t release me. “Thank you for lunch.”

 

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