Page 16 of Wild Card
I cross my arms, pacing. “Or both.”
Presley leans against the table, watching me think. “We can’t take this upstairs yet. Not without proof.”
“I know,” I say. “If we go to our bosses with a theory about a fake recovery and a frame job, we’ll look insane. Especially if Tran’s the one who said it was ‘handled.’”
“Exactly.”
I stop pacing and meet his eyes. “Then we dig.”
He nods once. “Together.”
For a moment, the exhaustion fades. The frustration. Even the rivalry. What’s left is the thrill—the spark that comes with knowing we’re onto something real.
I grab my tablet off the desk. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”
Presley’s phone buzzes again against the table. He glances at the screen, and I can tell immediately who it is by the way his expression tightens. Vincent.
He swipes to answer. “Yeah,” he says, voice low. “We’ve been reviewing footage to prove it’s Ronan… no, nothing conclusive yet. Uh-huh.”
He listens for a moment, jaw ticking, eyes darting toward me like he’s measuring how much to say.
Then: “Understood. We’ll be there.”
He ends the call and lets out a breath, sliding the phone into his jacket pocket.
“Let me guess,” I say. “Field trip?”
He nods once. “Vincent wants us both at the Jade Petal. Now. Apparently, there’s going to be a briefing—something about consolidating what we’ve found.”
My stomach tightens. “So basically, he wants us to report before we’ve even finished figuring out what’s going on.”
“Pretty much.” He leans against the table beside me, arms folded, that easy grin playing on his mouth even though I can tell he’s as tense as I am.
“You don’t look thrilled,” I say.
“Not exactly my dream invitation,” he admits. “But it’s part of the job.”
For a second, neither of us moves. The only sound is the low hum of the security servers and the faint buzz of the overhead light. Then he takes a step closer—close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Aria,” he says quietly, almost like he’s not sure he should. “I know we’ve got about ten minutes before we’re back under the microscope, but I don’t want this… us… to just get lost in the shuffle.”
I look up at him. He’s too close. The kind of close that makes it hard to think straight.
“Presley,” I say, warning in my voice, but it comes out softer than I mean it to.
He hesitates for half a heartbeat, then leans in just enough that I can feel his breath against my forehead. His hand brushes lightly along my arm—a quiet, grounding gesture that somehow saysstay with me a second longer.
He kisses me. It’s gentle. Brief. But it makes something inside my chest tighten. Then he turns me around and starts rubbing my clit again. I’m still so sensitive from the first time that I almost come undone.
“I’m not done with you yet.” He says.
I turn around to watch him "What are you doing?"
He winks, "Preparing you for something special."
He slides two lubed fingers into my ass, slowly, gently. I gasp, my body tensing briefly before relaxing into his touch.
"Relax, baby," he says, his fingers moving in and out, stretching me.
