Page 10 of Finn

"Miss you, baby. See you after work, right? You coming around a little later tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, you can count on it. Wear those crotchless panties you had on last time," Finn said in his husky voice.

I giggled into the phone as I looked around the police station. None of them knew a goddamn thing. The thrill of secretly seeing a man they considered a criminal made me feel utterly alive.

"Maybe… depends what kind of mood I'm in," I teased, knowing goddamn well I was wearing the crotchless panties. They were a hit last time. I saw no reason not to indulge Finn again.

"We're playing that game, are we? Well, it's working, honey. You better be wearing them…" Finn's husky tone was drowned out by the annoying sheriff.

"Chloe! I asked for those records two hours ago. Have you finished them yet?"

"Hey, I got it. I'm just adding in a couple of records and it will be ready," I called out, rolling my eyes. I held the phone away from my ear a little so Finn didn't have to experience the yelling.

"Sheriff?" Finn enquired.

"Yes," I hissed in a low whisper. "I gotta go, sexy. Gotta take care of business. If I hear anything, I will let you know," I said sweetly. The wind flew across my phone as I clicked off quickly. Margaret came in none the wiser with a few donuts.

"Want one? Help yourself," she offered.

"Sure, I'll take a couple, one for my break," I said cheerfully, throwing Margaret off track.

"Okay, I'll put 'em on a plate and bring them back," she said.

"Uh-huh." I smiled. As she left, I wondered how long I could keep up the secret affair Finn and I were having. But it was scorching hot. Hot enough for me to be daydreaming about him all day at work.

The Devils had ended up getting pinned with meth production and firearm-related charges. The guns, of course, weren't registered. After the raid, all I saw was hours of records and paperwork coming through on all of the motorcycle gangs in New Mexico.

I thought back to a few nights ago, lying in bed with Finn after another round that left me breathless.

"You gotta watch out for the new chapter that's on the rise," I'd told him, tracing my finger along his chest tattoos. "I can't remember their names from the report, but they're on the outskirts of New Mexico, and their colors are purple and black. A couple of old heads got brought in for questioning on trafficking cocaine."

"I know, seen them around. We don't have any beef with them. We aren't in the same lane. They're a new club; they know not to come starting something they can't finish," Finn had reasoned.

"Makes sense. Heard any more about Jessica?" I'd asked.

"She's not talking yet, but she's recovering. When is the bail hearing for Shank?"

"In five days, but he doesn't have a hope in hell. It's set super high."

He'd kissed me hard on the mouth. "You are brave. You could lose your job over this."

"I know, but I kinda like it. Feels good to be this bad," I'd said truthfully, repaying his kisses with a dose of my own.

Finn had just grinned, his rugged face lighting up as we watched movies and he rubbed my feet. So far so good between us.

I snapped back to the present moment and walked into the open office space, handing the sheriff the paperwork for the urgent report he needed.

"There you go," I said, dropping the manila folder into his tray.

He grunted. "Thanks. I can't wait till this biker shit is over. Sick of these reports," he complained—even though he wasn't the one filing, correcting, and managing them. I was.

"I mean, it is a good thing. They're trying to clean up the streets. Weren't we in the newspaper for making the most busts made in a month?" I replied, maintaining my cover while throwing a little jab at the same time.

Sheriff Malone's face dropped as I reminded him. "You make a good point, Chloe. I did say that. I guess I didn't think it through. Thanks for the reminder," he said gruffly. I smirked with a small moment of glory in my favor. "We have a couple more gangs to look into. If the Devils are anything to go by, then this is just the beginning."

I didn't pay too much attention to what the sheriff was saying. I let it go right over my head.

I walked back to my desk, seeing the blinking from the fax machine along with the dial tone. The documents were coming in fast, mostly requests for information on gang-affiliated activity connected to the local bikers.