Blow Me Away (Seven Tribesmen Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Evelyn Glass Read Free Book Online Page B

woman had barely known Stella for a week and already Agent Grant seemed to read her remarkably well.  Deciding to drop the topic, Grant reverted to business.  Plopping the small stack of papers onto Stella's desk, she said, “Here's the statements from the prostitutes and a visual of the timeline for the delivery.”
     
    “Thank you, Agent Grant,” Stella said, straining to remain professional.  She didn't want her partner feeling as if the cocaine bust was being brushed aside.  Trying to keep the smile on her face though, Stella tried to politely dismiss Agent Grant. “I'll review these and get back to you.”
     
    Agent Grant nodded once, eyebrows lowering into a curious furrow.  Stella tensed, but Agent Grant began to exit her office.  At the door, Agent Grant half-turned to address Stella again, “Are you sure you're OK, Agent Holmes?”
     
    Stella's eyes darted to the open corridor.  Officers passed by her door, going about their business.  Meanwhile, she sat without bottoms and Arthur Bishop sat hunched under her desk, his lips oh-so-close to her sex.  She fought down the heat that threatened to spill over her face.  Nodding her head resolutely, she hiccupped loudly, “One-hundred percent.”
     
    Agent Grant didn't appear convinced.  Her eyebrows still arched in concern.  The woman seemed caught between leaving and pressing the issue.  Stella shifted in her seat, praying Agent Grant wouldn't linger.  The longer that door was left open, the greater Stella's fear of having Bishop found beneath her desk increased.
     
    “Your eyes lit up when you heard he was visiting, Stella,” murmured Agent Grant.  Her gaze flickered away from Stella, embarrassed with her forward statement.  Bishop heard the words, an inexplicable joy puncturing his thoughts.  No, he couldn't let himself get too far ahead.  Stella's breath caught in her chest, the reminded excitement throbbing through her core.  She couldn't deny her delight.  “It may not be my place, but I'm just saying.”
     
    Stella swallowed as Agent Grant ducked out of the room and, gloriously, closed the door firmly behind her.  Relief danced across her thoughts as her shoulders eased from their tense hold.  The room shifted as Bishop pushed her chair backward, crawling out from under her desk.
     
    An insufferable grin curled at his lips.  The flush Stella had been holding back careened across her face, angry and mortified.  Stella's reaction only made Bishop's grin grow.  “Your eyes lit up?”
     
    The burn at Stella's cheeks intensified.  She bent down, allowing her hair to hide her cherry-red face as she picked up her panties and pants.  “We shouldn't do this.”
     
    Bishop's over-inflated sense of impending pleasure deflated.  They had work to do.  He stood, his gaze flickering to her desk.  Stella's new partner had brought in statements.  He vaguely wondered if he could nick one without her noticing.  Anything that helped his club would help.  He glanced back at her, bent over and putting her clothes back on.  His hand inched toward the pile of documents.  “You're right.”
     
    Bishop's fingers found the topmost page.  He silently clawed it from the stack, folded it, and jammed it deep into his pocket. 
     
    A sense of disappointment cleaved through Stella's thoughts.  Bishop agreeing wasn't something she had expected, especially seeing the size of his bulge as he stood.  She hid the emotion, as she struggled to get her pants back on.  Standing up, pulling the waistband up over her newly affixed panties, Stella buttoned and zipped up her pants.
     
    He straightened himself, crossing his arms over his chest as Stella straightened up and stared up at him.  Something sad danced just behind her expression, and guilt stabbed into his chest.  He didn't need to ask to know what he had done to upset her.  However, how she felt took second place to his club activities and retributio n— though seeing her carefully