Page 5 of A Tempting Motion
My phone vibrates on my desk and jars me from my thoughts.
“Chamberlain.”
“Theo?”
My heart stutters a painful beat and after hearing my name in Britta’s husky voice, my cock wakes to join the conversation.
“Britta? Hi. I’ve been trying to call you. What’s up?” Silence. “Britta?”
“Are you at your office?”
I look around my office like an idiot. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“I’m walking over. There’s something you should see.”
I perk up at the prospect of seeing her again. “Great, looking forward—” Theclickof the ended call coincides with the front door chiming as it opens. I head to the lobby to meet the potential client. I hate sending them away, but I don’t have a receptionist yet, and since Britta is coming, I’ll have to schedule an appointment.
But when I enter the lobby, I’m greeted by copper curls and blue eyes.
“Britta? That was fast.”
“Your office back there?” She points behind me before storming past.
“Yes, wait. What’s this about? You can’t barge in—” When I get to my office, she’s sitting behind my desk with a thumb drive, trying to log onto my computer. She’ll have a hard time not talking to me once she realizes it’s password protected.
“Sure, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” I murmur loud enough for her to hear. “Ah, yes, my chair. Best seat in the house.”
She’s either unimpressed or not listening, and I’m annoyed she’s not paying attention to me in my own damn office. Even worse, that she’s capable of driving me, a grown-ass man, to act like a five-year-old. That realization doesn’t stop me though as I lounge in the chair facing my desk and pull a steel ball from my pendulum out wide, letting it fall to slam into the one beside it.
I know she’s watching me as I feign interest in the most irritating byproduct of Newtonian physics. I bought it thinking it would look distinguished for potential clients. What a gimmick. The balls clack back and forth—
Slender fingers with bright nails capture the shiny balls, silencing their clatter. Britta’s glare could reduce a man to groveling for mercy, but I only remember being on my knees for something entirely different.
“Could you not?” she hisses. “Do you, or do you not, want to work with the prosecutor on your client’s case? Be professional for once.”
She ignores my scowl as I round my desk. When I lean over her to type my password, her strawberry shampoo tickles my nostrils. It takes every “professional” bone in my body not to spin her around and take her mouth with mine, devouring her right here, right now. I can’t help the groan that escapes me though, and I don’t miss the hitch in her breath either. Damn, she feels it, too.
When the screen powers on, Britta’s whine catches me off guard.
“What’s wrong?”
She watches me, biting her lip. “Whose dog is that?”
I look at my home screen to see my good ol’ girl, a brindle pit bull sitting proud in her pink collar. “That’s my Ethel. She’s with my parents while I get settled. I plan to bring her to the office sometime—”
Britta groans and turns abruptly before whispering something to herself. “Alright,” she says aloud. “Sharing time’s over.”
I bite my tongue, too curious why she’s here to fight. She inserts the thumb drive and clicks through the opening sequence. A window pops up containing several different security footage shots. She enlarges one and a dimly lit alleyway appears on the screen. My heart races as I recognize the date and time in the corner of the video.
“What’s this?” My chest is flush against Britta’s back as we fixate on the screen.
A sedan pulls into the alley and three men exit the car while the driver stays inside. Another man emerges from the other end of the alley, and the group confronts the loner. There’s no sound, and although the visuals are impressive for security footage, it’s too dark to see their faces.
The loner hands a duffel bag to the center man who checks inside and pulls out a brick of something white.
“Cocaine?” I ask.
“Meth’s more likely around here.”
