Page 4 of Double Standards
I roll onto my back, the lumpy mattress digging into my spine. Pulling out my phone, I scroll through the news articles—stories about the one and only, Cassidy Caruthers. Those green eyes pierce through the screen like she knows exactly what kindof man I am—and dares me to prove her right. My jaw tightens, a low thrum building in my chest as I study her. Sharp. Unapologetic. Dangerous in all the ways that make my cock twitch.
I need to get fucking laid.It’s been too long, and this woman has me ready to ruin something just to see if she’ll flinch.
I rub a hand down my face, trying to shake it off, but it lingers. The tension. The hunger. The way her mouth curves like a challenge. I haven’t even met her yet, but I already know she’s the kind of woman who doesn’t break easy. And fuck me, that just makes me want to be the one who tries.
The woman seems to be a formidable force. She’s taken on the city more than once, defending criminals that should have been hung by their balls from the day the cuffs went on. But somehow, Cassidy has managed to find loopholes for all their charges. Whatever this woman has, I need it.
Trigger stands up, brushing a hand through his hair. “I need to get going.”
“Keep in the shadows,” I mutter.
He doesn’t really need my advice. The man knows the city better than I do, and he knows what to expect from it.Nothing.
I shoot him a concerned look when he doesn’t respond. From the look of defeat swimming in his eyes, I’d hazard a guess that he’s still reeling over what happened a few weeks ago, but I know better than to push him for answers.
Trigger turns and calls out to a guard, who swiftly unlocks the cell door and lets him out. He gives me one last look and I probably read farther into it than I should. If I wasn’t so sure about his mental state, I’d be certain he was blaming himself for what happened. But the guy is stronger than that. Revenge fuels his system, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaps it.
Isit patiently as the clock ticks by in the tiny interrogation room I’ve been stuffed into. My fingers are thrumming a smooth rhythm to a song in my own head and as I glance at the clock, I suppress my annoyance.She’s late—something that grips my shit.
Nothing pisses me off more than tardiness, but I’ll give Cassidy Caruthers the benefit of the doubt. I need her talent. I need her tenacity. I need her ruthlessness.
The door to the interrogation room swings open, the clip of heels against the floor snapping me to attention immediately. A leggy blonde with sharp eyes stops short of the table I’m sitting at, clutching her coat and bag, her piercing green gaze locked with mine. Those irises are even more captivating in person than on screen and it makes it so damn difficult to focus on remaining stoic, instead of undressing her with my eyes.
As silence falls between us, I take in her appearance with rapt appreciation. She’s dressed in a sleek outfit, one that hugs her curves and exposes her toned calves. From the soaked-through blouse that reveals the peaks of her hard nipples to the dripping strands of hair that frame her face, she’snothappy— and I don’t know why that irritated look in her eyes is such a fucking turn on, but it has me reaching down to adjust myself, not caring that her gaze drops to track the movement for a split second before snapping back up.
“Sit,” I command, kicking out the chair opposite me.
“I’m not a dog,” she snaps, dropping her bag and coat on the table with a resounding thud.
“No, you’re certainly not.” I smirk as I watch her wring the damp blonde strands of her hair. The rain must be heavy, but I have to silently thank the man upstairs for it because I have a pretty damn good view of what’s beneath her drenched top.
“I don’t ask twice, though.” I gesture to the chair opposite me and she begrudgingly complies, dropping into the metal seat with a huff. Her shirt sticks to every delicious dip andcaptivating curve of her body, leaving little to the imagination—though I still try. She’s even more stunning in real life than on TV. I don’t think the television does her justice, because even though she should look like a drowned rat right now, she somehow wears it so fucking well. I have to fight the images swimming in my head, pushing them to the back of mind for later.
She breathes out a heavy sigh, getting straight to it by pulling out a recorder, pen, and paper. She sets it all down on the table carefully, finger hovering over the record button.
I rap my fingers on the table. Usually, my impatience would get the better of me by now, but I’m intrigued by this woman. She’s subtly watching me from the corner of her eye as she gets comfortable in her chair, pulling her sodden hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
“Mr. Bonanno,” she begins. “My name is?—”
“I know who you are, Cassidy Caruthers,” I reply with clipped indifference. “I asked for you specifically.”
“Right.” She clears her throat. The surprise in her eyes tells me she wasn’t expecting me to declare that so quickly. “So, as legal counsel, I need you to go through the series of events that led up to you being incarcerated.” Her words are straight to the point. I like that. I hate it when people beat around the bush.
Reaching forward, she presses her finger on the record button on her device.
I lean forward, pressing the red stop button before sitting back in my chair.
“I… ugghh…” her words stumble out clumsily with surprise before she swallows thickly. “I need to record our conversations, Mr. Bonanno.”
“Do you?” I question. I know she does, but because I can’t work this stunning vixen out, I feel the need to pushherbuttons.
And it works.
She looks cute when she’s flustered. The blush blooming onher cheeks makes her features stand out even more, and I can’t help but wonder how much this woman would blush if I bent her over this metal table and stuffed her full of my cock.
Fuck.I shift uneasily, attempting to ease the pain of my dick straining against my zipper. Clearing my throat, I tilt my head in her direction. “There are a few things we need to clear up before you record anything.”
She nods slowly in return, wariness widening her eyes.
