Page 92 of Stella
“Fine. You?”
“I survived my morning.”
I glance at my dog, lapping up Stella’s attention. “That’s good to hear.”
“Tonight?” Stella mouths.
My eyes rake her body, my back to the women behind us. I give her a chin lift, mouthing, “You want more?”
She nods.
I smile mischievously, trying to get the image of her body sprawled out underneath me all of last night, and this morning. The more I try, the more I picture me taking her from behind, my hands cupping her tits as I come all over that fucking tattoo when I pulled out from her tight little pussy. Fuck yeah, I’m there tonight, and every night if she’ll have me.
I glance around to check Amber and Willow are still talking, then pull out my phone.
I say to Stella; “Excuse me for a moment.”
She nods, watching me. Then I send her a text.
Me
I can’t wait to taste your pussy again
Her eyes light up when she pulls the phone from her pocket and reads the message. She doesn’t look at me, and in my periphery I see her typing back.
Stella
Holy shit. You know you have a talent for that, right?
Me
My place, though. That was a close call this morning
Stella
Text me the address
I tap it out, then look up. She’s still typing, and trying to pet Calli; my dog nudging her with her head because she’s jealous of a fucking phone.
Before I can send anything else, Cash starts walking towards us from the back entrance. He has a grim look on his face, like someone just pissed in his cereal. I straighten, sliding my phone away.
“Come,” I say to Calli. She immediately stands, rushing back to my side. “Sit.” She does as I ask, and I bend to pick up her leash.
“Detective Callaghan.” Cash raises a brow. “This better be good. It’s Sunday and I’m with my family.”
I stare him dead in the eyes. “Wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t important.”
He regards me with distaste for a few long seconds, then spreads his arm toward the meeting room doors. “After you.”
Willow joins me as he gives her a chin lift.
I head toward the doors, Calli on my heels. I don’t glance at Stella or acknowledge her again. The less I interact, the better.
Once inside, Cash moves to the end of a long, wooden, handcrafted table; the clubhouse meeting room is known as ‘Church’ and this is where all the big decisions in the club are made. The room is huge, with pleasant decor and artwork, along with a bar and coffee station at the far end. If these walls could talk…
I sit on his left, and Willow sits on his right.
I pull the envelope out of my jacket and place it on the table. “I need to be straight with you,” I begin. “And in return, your honesty would be appreciated.”
