Chapter 6 - | A Tug Of Wills

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

The moment I began making a move for the door, Detective James stopped me with his voice. "We are not done yet, Miss Bologna."

I made a slow turn towards him and leaned over the table, getting as close to him as possible. "I have a life I need to share with my one point two followers. I don't want to disappoint them."

"I wouldn't want to interfere with that, now, would I?" His eyes darted down to my chest, and then I realized I just shoved my cleavage in his face.

"See something you like, Detective?"

"Absolutely." He glanced up from my cleavage to my face. "And, unlike you, I'm not afraid to admit it."

I bent a little lower, purposely allowing my blouse to gape, even more, making sure he got an eyeful of something he would never have.

"Believe me, I'm not afraid to admit when I see something I like…or want."

"That makes you a liar, then."

"And what exactly gives you that idea?"

"You arching your back so you can shove your tits in my face." His eyes flitted down to my breasts before he leaned to the side and glanced back at my ass. "Then there's also the way your ass is currently pushed up like it's searching for something," he looked back at me, "or maybe it needs something."

Oh. My. God.

The way those words rolled out of his mouth like verbal porn had heat spreading from my cheeks, down my spine, straight to the ache between my legs.

Without backing away, I kept my gaze fixed on his. "You're quite observant, aren't you, Detective?"

He nodded. "That's why I'm so damn good at everything I do."

The way he emphasized the word "everything," I knew he wasn't talking about his job.

I narrowed my eyes as I slowly started to realize playing the flirting game with Detective Gunner wasn't something I would win easily. He had that whole sex-appeal thing down to a fucking T, and judging by the desire currently pooling between my legs, I was convinced if we continued with this little game, it would end with me bent over this goddamn steel table, cuffed and gasping for air while he proved to me what a liar I was, over…and over…and over again.

"Are we finished here, Detective?"

"Not by a longshot." The promise in his words came out loud and clear, and it sent a thrill of excitement down my spine.

Excitement? Of course, I would feel excited since I had the natural talent to break rules whenever I got the chance. I believed some people called it masochistic tendencies.

I needed to leave…now.

Abruptly, I turned and headed to the door, only to realize there was no doorknob or any way to open the door from the inside.

Annoyed to no end, I swung around and glared at him.

He smirked. "Is there something wrong, Miss Bologna?"

"Open the damn door."

And there he went again, biting his bottom lip, his gaze staring at my black stiletto heels, slowly moving up my legs, stopping at my knees just below my black pencil skirt, before continuing up my body. With each passing second, it felt like his stare was touching me, caressing every inch he saw. The sexual tension that suddenly pulsed all around us made it almost impossible to breathe. It sucked every breath out of my lungs, and it felt like the temperature in here fucking skyrocketed.

While I was hyperventilating on the spot, I watched as he got up and stalked in my direction, his intense gaze practically pinning me against the door behind me. With every step he took, it was like my body automatically responded to him. He was about six-foot-four of pure muscle and malice—rough around the edges with a wild, untamed streak in every goddamn move he made. Not like all the other detectives at this precinct. The others certainly didn't force images of wild nights and satin sheets clinging to our sweaty bodies into my head—not like Detective Gunner was doing right now. Especially with that mouth of his slightly parted, promises of dark desires and decadent pleasures hanging from his lips.

Unbelievable.

I was a strong woman. Men hardly ever intimidated me, and seducing me was no easy task. But this man? This man had my attention for nothing more than a few minutes, and already my mind was filled with dirty thoughts and wild fantasies.

He stepped up to me, his face inches from mine. I felt his warm breath skid across my cheek, and the sensation stormed straight through my body, settling right between my thighs.

As he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath started to stir an array of sensations all through my body. My heart was now jackhammering against my ribs, my throat feeling like the damn desert.

When he lifted his arm, his gaze never leaving mine, I sucked in a breath. And then he reached behind me, his lips mere inches away, and pushed a button next to my head and said, "Larry, open the door for Miss Bologna."

I thought I died. I was dead. I died and collapsed into a giant puddle of pathetic womanhood.

The click of the door sounded behind me, and I was out of there faster than you could say "what the fuck was that?"

As my heels clicked down the hall, my heartbeat slowly returning to normal, I heard a second pair of footsteps behind me.

"You in town long, Miss Bologna?"

I took a deep breath, but I didn't slow down. "You're the detective, you tell me."

"I'm guessing no more than a few weeks?"

"Is that you guessing or saying?"

He fell into step next to me. "I'm going to go with guessing."

I stopped and turned to face him. "You're good, Detective, I'll give you that. But let's say you're right—and I'm not saying you are—but if I am the daughter of an Italian-American mafia boss, as you suspect I am, you've got real balls summoning me down here and then putting me in a damn interrogation room like a criminal. I'd say that wasn't a very smart move, Detective."

"Are you threatening me, Vanessa?" Lord help me, but the way my name rolled off his lips was like eroticism on fucking steroids. It was like porn to my ears.

I took a step back and tried to ignore the tingles spreading through my bones like wildfire, and I squared my shoulders.

"Not at all." I lifted my voice a single octave. "I'm merely stating that if what you said was true, you just made one hell of a rookie mistake."

With my words hanging in the air like the threat it was meant to be, I turned on my heel and sashayed my curvy ass out of there. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time until I exited the building.

The moment I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. The feeling that scratched against every bone in my body was too damn familiar. I'd experienced this before, the feeling of a man being able to electrify my body without even touching me. It was unnerving, yet exciting at the same time. But I learned the hard way that this feeling was also powerful enough to bring me to my knees. I promised myself I would never let a man affect me like that again. Too much was at stake, and I already had too many regrets because I gave in to that temptation once.

But, by God, my body felt like it was on fire just having Detective Gunner's eyes on me. He wasn't even touching me, or close to touching me, for that matter. There was sweat running down my back, for God's sake. That was how he managed to affect me within less than twenty-five minutes.

It was the eyes. It had to be those dark goddamn eyes. Devil eyes, that was what they were. Dark windows into the demonic world where he could make you offer up sweet, innocent little puppies with a single glance. Damn, I was pretty sure he would make you want to toss in a tiny kitten as well, just for good measure.

I exhaled and looked up to the sky. Was this the universe's way of playing one sick joke on me, showing me no matter how hard I tried to put the past behind me, there was no way of escaping who I was? A woman is drawn to the forbidden, charmed by the prospects of breaking rules, and resisting authority by walking. g on the edge?

No. Not again. Never again.