Then she was bobbing and ducking through the crowd. “Gray!” Emerson called out his name and she was⁠—

  Running straight into Gray. Because he’d stopped in the middle of the bar. Turned back toward her. His hands flew out and clamped around her shoulders. “Did I forget something?”

  “Yes,” she said, very definitely. “Me.” Then she stood on her tiptoes, yanked him toward her, and kissed him.

  Chapter Six

  “I will protect my partner. Always.” – Gray Stone

  He was a stalker.

  Gray knew it. Understood it. Should probably change his actions and be less of a stalker, but that shit just wasn’t going to happen. Ever since that night in Briar, Tennessee, when a killer had put his hands on Emerson, Gray had turned into a full-fledged stalker where his partner was concerned.

  His protective tendencies had only amplified after the painted message had been left in Emerson’s motel room. Gray was worried. Every instinct he had screamed an alarm.

  You’ll die. Those words in Emerson’s room haunted him. They also pissed him off. No one would hurt her. Not on his watch. Screw that shit. So…

  He’d begun to stalk her. To make certain she was safely home at night. To make certain no predators were hanging around her place. To make certain…

  There are no threats.

  And, yes, he’d been testing her. He’d needed to make sure the woman could shoot to protect herself. Sure, he’d seen her files. Knew that she’d passed the shooting drills before, but he’d wanted to see her skills up close and personally.

  He’d been impressed when he’d watched her fire at the target. It took a lot to impress him.

  Then, there had been the morning when he’d had the total jackass idea of sparring with her. Just to make sure that she’d be able to hold her own against a bigger opponent. But the instant he’d seen her in those short shorts—hello, torture—his dick had saluted, his mind had gone dead silent, and he’d had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms.

  So, he’d taken her down on the mat. She’d escaped his hold. Again, impressing him. Then she’d taken him down.

  Turned him on even more.

  When they’d regained their footing, she’d stood before him, beautiful, determined, and she’d just boldly announced that she wanted him. He’d tried to warn her away. Done his damn best. But…

  She hadn’t backed down.

  Rylan had interrupted before things went too far. Rylan who always watched her a bit too much. Like I’m one to judge. Rylan who always lingered around her a bit too much. Again, who the hell am I to judge?

  But…

  He didn’t want Rylan around her. Truth be told, Gray didn’t want any other guy putting his hands anywhere near her.

  So, yes, his stalker skills had been activated. He’d followed the group to the bar when he realized Emerson was accompanying them. He could have lied to himself and said he followed to make certain that she was safe. But this particular stalking adventure wasn’t about safety. It was about jealousy.

  She’d gone to the bar with Rylan.

  Watchful, fun, and ready-to-entertain-her-at-any-moment Rylan.

  Getting the drop on the group had been too easy. Seriously, too easy. They were Feds—fine, Feds and one consultant. They should have been aware of their surroundings at all times. But, instead, they’d been gossiping about his past, and they hadn’t been aware when he’d snuck in the back door literally feet away from them.

  Amateur mistake.

  And…now…

  She’s chasing after me. He’d turned when he heard Emerson call his name. She’d darted through the crowd. He couldn’t even see the table of Feds behind her. They were blocked by a line going to the bar. But Emerson⁠—

  She barreled toward him. His coat was tucked under her arm. She’d shivered, so he’d given her the damn coat to wear, not to carry around. His hands reached out and curled around her shoulders. “Did I forget something?”

  “Yes.” Very definite.

  Oh, he had? What had he forgotten?

  “Me.” Her hands fisted in his shirtfront even as she shot onto her toes, and she kissed him. Holy hell, she kissed him. In the crowded bar. A bar with FBI agents.

  She. Kissed. Him. Open mouth. Teasing tongue.

  He stiffened. Even as lust and longing poured through every cell in his body, his muscles tightened. Her mouth was soft and sweet, and he wanted to savage it with his raw need and lust. Wanted to damn the consequences and any watchers and kiss her the way he wanted. I want to kiss her. Fuck her. Claim her.

  Emerson whipped back, as if just realizing what she’d done. “You…aren’t kissing me. Not, uh, back, I mean, and I’m—I’m sorry! I—I shouldn’t have chased you. I shouldn’t have kissed you!”

  Screw it. He took the coat from her.

  Emerson blinked.

  He moved behind her. Put the coat on her shoulders.

  “What is happening right now?” she whispered.

  “You’re coming with me.” Gritted. Speech was nearly impossible. He put his arm around her shoulders. Pulled her against him. Took her out of that bar. His expression must have been helluva fierce because everyone got out of his way, immediately, and then he was outside. They were outside. The busy Atlanta street seemed to hum with energy. He turned to the left, his arm still around her shoulders. Gray guided Emerson away from the bar’s busy entrance. To the side of the building on a much quieter street. He turned. Pinned her between the building and his body. His hands flew up to cage her.

  “I…probably should not have done that.”

  There wasn’t much light on the side of the building. The darkness surrounded them. Pulled at him. “Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t have. Too late now, though.” He leaned closer. “Do it again.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Do it…again.” He should not. Hell, no, he should not but… “Kiss me again.” Kissing her was not the way to stay platonic partners. He’d intended to keep his hands off her that night. Actually, his hands weren’t on her. They were flat against the brick wall behind her. It was his mouth that was about to be on her.

  Jealousy seethed inside of him. Because when he’d gotten to that bar, Rylan had been sitting right beside her. Rylan’s arm had been brushing against hers. Rylan had been leaning into her, practically kissing her cheek.

  Sonofabitch. I’m jealous of a green agent. And it sucked. It freaking sucked. He wanted Emerson, and he didn’t want to share her with anyone. Ever.

  Her hands rose and pressed to Gray’s cheeks. A silken touch. He leaned toward her. She rose up. She. Kissed. Him.

  They were alone. No prying eyes. No Feds at a nearby table. Just him. Just her. Just the darkness.

  His mouth opened. Her lips parted. His tongue sank into the sweetness that waited for him, and every cell in his body seemed to become electrified. His dick was already saluting her. Need burned beneath his skin. A hungry desire to take and take and take.

  To take until the desperate lust eased.

  Until he stopped dreaming about her. Waking up at night, her name on his lips, the sheets tangled around his legs and his dick hard and aching for her.

  You can’t go back from this.

  Did he want to go back? Or did he want to grab tightly to her and never let go?

  Danger. Serious fucking danger.

  He hauled his mouth away. She cried out in protest. He wanted to put his mouth right back on hers and drink up every single sound she might make but… “Why the hell did you kiss me, in there?”

  “Because it seemed like a really good idea at the time.” Husky. Sexy.

  His back teeth clenched. “You know that we could have been seen,” Gray gritted out.

  Soft laughter trickled from her. He was pretty sure that he might have stopped breathing.

  I love the sound of her laughter.

  “Being seen was the whole point,” Emerson confessed.

  His hands pressed harder against the wall as he fought the impulse to touch her. To drag her close.

  “Though the crowd did get thicker than I anticipated. Can’t be certain that we were seen,” she mused. “I did try, though. Maybe an A for effort, am I right?”

  She might drive him insane. And he might enjoy the ride. “Why did you want to be seen kissing me?”

  “Because I wanted everyone to understand that I was the one pursuing you. You weren’t applying pressure, using your big, bad clout at the FBI to get impressionable me into bed.”

  He snorted. Impressionable, his ass.

  “You weren’t getting me to do anything I didn’t want. By kissing you there, in front of everyone, I was making it clear that you were the man I was choosing.” An exhale. “Even if you weren’t choosing me back. You rejecting me right in the middle of the bar was a major possibility. And, FYI, you kinda did reject me. So if any of the team saw us, they probably have no idea if we’re making out or if you’re currently kicking me out of the Bureau. Not like you kissed me with mad passion in the bar.”

  It had taken all of his willpower not to literally gobble her up. “You shouldn’t play dangerous games with me.”

  “Why not? They’re the only kind of games that you like to play.”

  He wanted to kiss her again. No, he wanted to do one hell of a lot more than that. He wanted to completely devour her. He wanted her mouth. He wanted her naked. He wanted his hands on every inch of her body. He wanted his mouth on every inch of her. He wanted to lap her up and have her shudder and buck against him as she came.

  “Giving you the green light,” Emerson said. “In case there was any confusion.”

  Fuck me.

  “I made my choice. Partner or lover? That was the question you posed to me. Well, I choose both. I’ve never been an either-or kind of girl. I take what I want. I want both options with you. And I think we can have them.”

  He should unclench his jaw. Move away from her.

  “This is the part where you respond,” she prompted. Her voice trembled a little bit. “The part where you have to say or do something.”

  Usually, he was the chatty one, at least chatty by comparison to his very small group of real friends. His Marine buddies, all lethal bastards who would gladly bleed for each other in a heartbeat. But, right then, with Emerson, he wasn’t sure what to do.

  Or what to say.

  I want her. I want to take and take.

  But…

  Could they be both? Hell, no. This was going to explode in his face. He knew it with utter certainty. When the flames came, he’d have no one to blame but himself. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the fire for a time.

  “Gray?” Emerson prompted. Her hands had lowered to press to his chest.

  In the distance, he heard the rumble of motorcycle engines. Quite a few of them.

  “Are you going to say anything or just leave me hanging?” Emerson asked him.

  Oh, darling, I would never leave you hanging. “Your timing is interesting.”

  “What?”

  Gray nodded. “I appreciate you helping me lay the groundwork for our new case.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” A pause. “Are you drunk?” Suspicious.

  He laughed. Couldn’t help it. Even as the growl of those engines got louder. Closer. “The scene in the bar—if we were spotted—just plays in our favor.”

  “Uh…good?”

  “Because we’ll need that for our cover.”

  “Cover? What cover? Gray, make sense, would you? Make sense.”

  He kissed her. Just put his lips back on hers, plunged his tongue into her mouth, and tasted her. So incredibly sweet.

  Time was running out. He had just a few moments to take what he wanted. And he wanted her.

  They’d come out of the bar together. He hadn’t seen the FBI bastard go in the nearby bar, so he hadn’t expected Emerson to come out with the jerk’s arm around her shoulders and seemingly wearing the man’s suit coat.

  But he’d been waiting. Watching. Some days, it seemed as if he’d always been watching Emerson. Did she know? Could she feel him?

  She should know. She should feel him.

  So when she came out with the agent, he wondered if it might just be a taunt. A way to piss him off. Tricky, tricky Emerson. Such a naughty tease.

  Only then the man steered her into the shadows. He pushed her up against the wall. Then FBI Special Agent Gray Stone put his mouth on Emerson. He kissed her. She kissed him back. There, in the shadows. In the darkness.

  He watched. He didn’t attack. Even though rage twisted and coiled inside of him.

  Emerson, what are you doing?

  He’d been angry before, back in Briar, when he’d seen the FBI agent rush out of her motel room. For a moment, his temper had taken control. He’d wrecked her room. Wrecked the Fed’s room. Left a warning for them both.

  But then they’d stayed apart. He’d thought—maybe they’d taken his warning to heart. Or…or maybe he’d even been wrong. Maybe they had been talking about a case, and that was why Gray Stone had been in her motel room so late. Not because they were fucking. Emerson wouldn’t fall for someone like him, anyway. Stone would be too boring for her. He didn’t have enough darkness to call to the real Emerson.

  But she was kissing him. Right then. Right there. Stone was kissing her.

  He slowly pulled out the knife that he always carried. Started to advance.

  And the howl and growl of motorcycles erupted into the night. He stepped back, darting into the shadows once more even as his head whipped toward the growls. He saw the lights from the approaching bikes. Shining—glaring—through the darkness. Oh, no. Had he been seen in the lights? He scurried back more. Even more. More hurried steps away from Emerson and the Fed, fast steps until he was almost running, but he figured the growl of those motorcycle engines would hide his retreat. Wouldn’t they?

  Can’t be seen. Can’t be caught.

  Rage blasted inside of him even as…

  A glance over his shoulder showed him that the motorcycles were heading straight for the darkness that held Emerson and her Agent Stone.

  Don’t disappoint me, Emerson. If you do, I’ll kill him first…and send pieces of him for you to find.

  The growling and snarling of motorcycle engines yanked Emerson back to reality. She shuddered against Gray. It sounded as if a whole stampede of bikes was heading their way.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Gray told her. “I’ve got this.”

  This? What was this?

  He turned away from her. Put his body in front of hers, and those growls just got even louder. Even rougher as the small side street they were on suddenly filled with at least a dozen big, black motorcycles.

  What is happening here?

  She grabbed Gray’s shoulders and shoved up on the balls of her feet. The riders all wore dark helmets, with their masks pulled down to cover their faces. The first bike had stopped about five feet from Gray. The driver of that bike still gripped the handlebars as the motorcycle idled.

  “You’re loud as hell,” Gray called out. “How about you try making a less dramatic entrance next time?”

  The lead motorcycle revved again.

  Oh, no. Emerson’s stomach seemed to drop. She knew that Gray had a ton of enemies in this world. She hadn’t known about his abduction and torture time. How had she missed all that? The powers at the FBI had buried that truth, but the gossip mill had kept some of the details going.

  And now…

  This.

  The leader raised his hand. Made a circling motion with his gloved fingers. All of the other riders immediately turned and drove away. More snarling engines. More growls. Rather deafening in the small street.

  But the leader remained. He turned off his Harley. Climbed off the motorcycle. He wore a black jacket. Battered. His hand rose to grab his helmet. He dropped it on the seat and then began to close in on Gray.

  Slow steps.

  Emerson remained on her tiptoes so that she could try to see him better. Dark hair. Thick. Hard jaw.

  Would it kill them all to take this scene into better lighting?

  “You taking the case?” the man asked.

  What case? Emerson tried to dart around Gray.

  He moved to the side, effortlessly blocking her dart. “Working on it right now.”

  “Uh, huh. Looked to me like you were working on something different.” Mocking.

  She realized that the flash of headlights had probably illuminated her and Gray quite well.

  “It’s called laying groundwork,” Gray returned. “Setting the scene.”

  Her hands fisted. She’d thought what they were doing was called kissing.

  “She’s my partner, Dr. Emerson Marlowe.”

  Partner.

  “Oh, I know exactly who she is.” The stranger seemed pleased. “Glad she’s the one you picked for the job.” A brief pause. “You’ll take him out?”

  “I’ll…apprehend the suspect.” Careful words.

  Enough of this nonsense. She elbowed Gray out of her way. He rumbled a warning to her, but she ignored that warning and faced off with the stranger. Gray’s height. Gray’s build. If only she could see his features clearly. “Who are you?”

  “Sweetheart, names aren’t entering this game.”

  “I’m not your sweetheart,” she returned instantly.

  “She sure as hell isn’t.” A lethal warning from Gray. “Watch yourself.”

  Soft laughter. “Is that you getting into character, too? The jealous lover? Bet you’ve never played that role in your life. A real bitch, isn’t it?”

  Her gaze raked the stranger, going from the top of his head—thick, dark hair—and traveling down. Old t-shirt. Jeans. Black boots. His voice was deep, held no accent, but seemed…something is familiar about him. “Do I know you?” Emerson asked.

  “Better if you don’t,” he said. “Ask Gray. He’ll tell you it’s always better to pretend you have no clue who I am.”

  Okay. Now she was even more curious. Her head turned toward Gray. “Are we meeting with a motorcycle gang leader in a dark alley? Because that’s sure what this seems like. Is he some sort of source for you?”