“Yes,” I growl.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes!” I cry.
He loosens his grip on my hips and I can’t stop myself, I’m thrusting hard against him and he’s meeting me with every movement, and being filled by him, taken by him, pleasured by him is so much, so good, so perfect, that it’s not long before I hit the peak and explode, coming hard around his cock, my fingernails digging into his shoulders, body quaking with the release, muscles clenching around him.
He meets me there a moment later, holding my hips down so that every single millimeter of his cock is firmly pressed inside of me, my hips still going wild with my orgasm, circling him with a frenzy I’ve never felt with anyone else and never want to feel with anyone else again for as long as I live.
It takes several minutes for the aftershocks to stop coming, and I ride them out with my face pressed against his shoulder while he runs his fingers through my hair, over and over. His cock responds every time another wave of pleasure comes, pulsing like we’re one person.
I never want to get up.
Soon, Jett whispers something in my ear. I’m so caught up in the scent of him, in the firm lines of him, that at first I don’t hear.
“What?”
“Shower.”
“No. Why can’t we stay here? Forever?”
He kisses me, tender and soft against my bruised lips, and smiles. “We can’t go to the police station naked and covered in sex.”
“The police station?” My stomach drops. This can’t be. Is he seriously still dead set on—?
“Absolutely, sweet thing. Do you think I’m going to let that Charlie asshole run around the streets of New York? No. We need to put some pressure on.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Jett
The world seems brighter when Angelica and I leave her building, her hand in my arm. Angelica is a God damn vision, dressed in a sharp little blazer over a deep maroon-colored sheath dress.
I beat Stuart to the door of the Town Car, then slide in across the seat.
“Hi, Stuart,” Angelica says, beaming.
“Hello, Ms. Chandler.” He smiles back at her in the rearview mirror.
“We have something to take care of, Stuart,” I say, unable to wipe the grin off my own face. “The police station on 54th. Quick as you can.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting next to Angelica in one of the offices on the main floor of the station. There’s a bit of a crowd. A detective, the chief of police, two officers, Angelica’s lawyer, my own personal lawyer—who I forced to leave the meeting he was in fifteen minutes ago—and the two of us. We’re on a conference call with the DA’s office, and there’s a lot of legalese being exchanged that frankly makes me want to tear my hair out.
I want to be back at my penthouse with Angelica. But first, I need to figure out a way to prove to her, once and for all, that she’s the one. I never want her to have to worry about this again.
“Let me make myself absolutely clear,” I interject, putting one hand on the polished surface of the chief’s desk. “I do not want any charges to be pressed in this matter. Ms. Chandler was forced to provide access to my files under threat of violence. That’s extortion. Her brother’s safety was being held for ransom.”
There’s another burst of chatter in the room, and then the phone on the chief’s desk rings. “Quiet!” His voice is booming, and deep, but his face is calm. This isn’t a man who’s going to make a hasty judgment. “Yes?” His expression is neutral while he listens to the person speaking on the other end of the line. “Okay.” We all lean in. “I don’t have to remind you that this is going to be one hell of an investigation. Don’t fuck it up.” Then he hangs up the phone, folds his hands on the desk, and looks around the room.
“Ms. Chandler,” he says, after a significant pause, “you’ll be happy to hear that our officers have apprehended the man you knew as Charlie and his associate, Malcolm Drake.”
“Malcolm Drake?” Angelica says, her forehead wrinkling.
“The man who posed as a CD seller.”
Angelica lets out a huge sigh, then smiles widely, visibly relieved. “You got them both?”
“Yes, and we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Her eyes widen. “For what?”
“The information you provided made it easier to find him.” The chief clears his throat. “When our agents apprehended him, they recognized him for his true identity.”
Angelica gives a little shake of her head.
“Charlie was only an alias. His real name is Randall Harvey.”