A week later, Gray wondered if he’d finally met a financial case he couldn’t solve, and a missing person Mac couldn’t find.  Something in the equation was definitely missing and he had a feeling Michaela Girabaldi had the answer.  But finding that answer would mean interrogating her, which would require talking to her, something he hadn’t done since their last argument.

They’d been circling each other like caged tigers, which is what he felt like when she was in his vicinity.  Her body called to him like the beacon on the lighthouse down the island, which he discovered during one of his nightly walks to take the edge off of that pent-up energy.  If he didn’t, he knew he’d be awake all night. 

After she mentioned it, Gray looked up silver bullet on the internet and wished like hell he hadn’t.  He found out it wasn’t used for killing bloodsucking women, it was used to kill horny forensic accountants who thought about her using it all night in the other bedroom.

He was thankful she’d mostly been avoiding him.  Except when she was cooking for herself, then smiling at him as she dumped any leftovers in the trash.  And when she took naked dips in the Gulf, just out of his range of vision from the beach bed, but made sure to pass through the patio to go back inside, dripping wet and wrapped in a beach towel.

Michaela Girabaldi knew how to play dirty, and damn if her underhanded tactics weren’t working.  Gray felt like bees had taken up residence under his skin to sting him at will until he cried uncle.  He was very close to crying, but nowhere near uncle yet.  If she thought she would bring him to his knees, she had another thing coming.  He was well-versed in dealing with devious, possibly felonious, women.

His cell phone rang and Gray grabbed it off of the bed to look at the display.  “Hey, Mac—please tell me you found her.”

“I did, but she’s moving fast, so I’d suggest you pin her down quickly,” he replied gruffly.  “I’ve been a step behind her from St. Thomas, to Bermuda.  She ran out of islands, I guess, because she’s now in Acapulco.  Plenty of territory to explore in Mexico, if you have a death wish.”

“I’m just glad you finally found her.  Acapulco? Yeah, she must have a death wish,” Gray said, wondering why a woman alone would choose such a treacherous place to hide out.  But maybe she wasn’t alone

“You know if she’s traveling by herself, Mac?” Gray asked.

“I have no idea, since my contact hasn’t actually seen her.  He just knows she bought a one-way ticket to Acapulco and she’s booked into a hotel there called Siesta de Palmas.”

“Is he in Mexico?” Gray cringed when he thought of how much this was going to cost Logan and how much hell he’d have to pay when his boss found out. 

He now knew how Dex, their technology-addicted computer expert, felt when he smoked the company credit card and asked Gray to cover for him.  That reminded Gray he needed to call him today to get a lesson on resetting the high-tech alarm system after the power outage the other night.  Right now, though, all he cared about was finding Teresa Girabaldi, so he could get back to his real work, which he knew was piling up hourly on his desk.

“No, Jackson had to pull back because a lead broke in another investigation, one paying him a lot more than I am, which is nothing.  He owed me a favor.” 

Gray breathed a sigh of relief.  One less thing he would owe Logan, but when he got back to Dallas, Lou Ellen would owe him plenty.

“I can go to Acapulco if you want me to, but I can only stay two days. If I don’t find her, I’ll have to pull back too, because I have to pick up my son.  My ex is going on vacation and if I make her miss it, she’ll peel my skin off,” Mac said with a weary sigh.

The question was when would Mac have time for a vacation?  That man worked harder and longer hours than even Gray.  He even took on private side jobs to support his son and make sure he had everything he and his mother asked for, which was too much.  Gray refused to add to MacKenzie’s problems, especially for a spoiled diva who didn’t deserve it.

“No, that’s okay, Mac.  I really appreciate all that you’ve done so far and that you didn’t mention it to Logan.  If you get expense reports from your contact, just give them to me and I’ll handle it.”

Before anyone else stuck their neck out in this wild goose chase, Gray needed to find out what the connection was between Vincent Girabaldi, the mob, and Zetas.  He’d bite the silver bullet and ask Michaela first, but if that failed, he knew who he could call.

If there was a man who knew all about the current conditions in Acapulco, the temperature of the cartels there, and maybe any current mob connection to those cartels, it was his former co-worker, FBI Special Agent Derek Spencer, who was now lead agent on the gang interdiction task force.  That man was like a roach who’d survived the apocalypse, and as such, the only one Gray trusted was really clean on the team.

Scrolling through his phone, he found Derek’s number and was about to dial when a pair of tanned calves caught his attention.  Inch by delicious inch, he slowly worked his way up to her thighs, where he stopped when he realized she didn’t have a towel on today.  He streaked past the good parts to meet her eyes.

“What in the hell are you doing?!?” Gray demanded, shoving his laptop aside to move to the side of the bed.

“Enjoying the same freedom that you and Hawk found so liberating.  You’re right…nudity is pretty amazing.” 

His eyes glided up her legs to her knees, skimmed over her flat abdomen and he swallowed hard when he reached her breasts.  “Put some damned clothes on if you want me to continue to help you, Michaela!”

“Since you don’t seem to know I’m here, what does it matter?” she volleyed, pushing her wet hair back from her face.

Didn’t know she was there?  Oh, Gray knew—every minute of every freaking hour that ticked off the clock.  And that explained his inability to focus to solve this case.

“Why are you determined to distract me, Jersey? Are you scared I’ll find out what you’re hiding?” he demanded, finally coming to the conclusion she didn’t want him to be able to focus.

Her lip curled and her eyes sparked gold fire. “Does it look to you like I have a place to hide anything?” She dropped the towel draped on her arm to her fingers, so every square inch of her delicious body was right there. In. His. Face.

A tick started at the corner of Gray’s right eye, and was joined by a muscle in his cheek. It was a herculean effort to keep his eyes above the level of her chin, but he was determined. His mind conjured up the picture anyway, and he groaned, feeling like he was the one soaking wet and holding onto a bare wire.

“Dammit, put some clothes on, Michaela!” he growled, feeling his blood pressure skyrocket. “This isn’t funny and I’ve had enough of your torture tactics.” Gray stood, and his whole body twitched with the effort to keep his eyes on hers.

“Torture tactics?” she repeated, her eyes widening as she batted her wet, clumped lashes.

“Yes, you’ve been torturing me since our argument and, if you want my help, this childish bullshit needs to stop now.  I need to talk to you.”

“Does, this look like a child to you, Grayson Jennings?” She smoothed her hand down her side to her hip and sucked in a breath.  “If so, you might need to have those glasses on your nose strengthened.”  One side of her mouth curled. “As for talking, I thought you’d cut your tongue out.  Or maybe those pipes Hawk said needed cleaning had burst and drowned you.”

Gray chewed the inside of his cheek a moment, not knowing whether to laugh or scream his frustration was so great.  “My eyes and tongue are fine, it’s my temper that has reached the end.” Gray tightened his lips over his teeth.  “Get some damned clothes on or I am getting in that car right now and driving to Dallas—without you!”

She shrugged and lifted her chin.  “Suit yourself.  I’ll give Hawk a call.  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving me a ride.”

Like a rubber band stretched to its max, Gray’s temper snapped and blinding anger consumed him.  In one step, her slick shoulders were in his hands and he lifted her.  Turning, he tossed her onto the bed, then stripped his shirt over his head and quickly pushed his pants off. 

Eyes wide, Michaela sat up, but he flew onto the bed and pinned her to the mattress with his body.  Her hot, slick skin melded with his and he groaned as he fisted her wet hair to tilt her head back, then took his frustration out on her mouth. 

Her taste invaded his mouth, her heat surrounded him and immediately his muscles loosened and the tension at the back of his neck eased as another part of his anatomy went rock-hard.  Michaela moaned into his mouth and her nails raked his scalp as she shoved a hand into his hair to hold him closer. 

Her tongue sought out his as her calf rubbed his thigh. He kissed her deeper and she mewled as she ground herself against his hip.  He wasn’t wrong—this was just what she wanted. Well, she was just about to get it, he thought, nudging her thighs apart with his knee, so he could slide his fingers through her dripping folds. 

Gray had never had angry sex with a woman, but he was about to mark that off of his never done list right now. It was good timing, since he was angrier than he’d ever been in his life and the woman beneath him the cause.

“You want a ride, Michaela?” Gray snarled, breathing hard as he dragged his mouth from hers. “Well, saddle up, baby.”

He pushed up to his knees, rolled her onto her belly then scooted behind her to grab her hips.  He pulled her to her knees and sucked in a sharp breath when her plump ass cheeks sandwiched his cock.

“I’m about to give you the ride of your fucking life, you little tease.”

“Well, it’s about time,” she said, pushing back to grind her butt against him.

Her wet folds wrapped around his rigid length and she lifted up on her toes to place his head right at her opening.  She wiggled her hips, mewling her pleasure when he slipped just inside her heat.  Gray’s heart pounded so hard, he felt like he might pass out as his fingers curled deeper into her flesh.  With a growl, he pulled back, but hesitated.

This was his last chance to change his mind, to remember all the reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this.  But at the moment, none of those reasons mattered.  All that mattered to him right then was getting inside of her before he came like a teenager. 

Shutting his mind to everything except fucking her until he couldn’t walk, until she was too tired to run her mouth, Gray thrust halfway into her and groaned as her body gloved his cock.  She moaned loudly, then panted as she squirmed and fisted the mattress cover. 

That could be because she was so fucking tight he wondered if he would even be able to push all the way inside her body.  Gray waited for her to adjust and to find some control, because he didn’t want to hurt her in his anger. 

“More—please,” she begged in a raw whisper lifting her hips toward him.

Those words, her agitated breaths, intermittent whines, and the pulse of her inner muscles around him were too much to bear.  Gray’s vision clouded as a wave of heat poured through him and his balls tightened.  His cock swelled inside her and with a roar he pushed hard to bury himself inside her body.  Her pained whimper tweaked his conscience, but she’d egged him to this point.

Like a custom-fitted glove, Michaela Girabaldi’s hot, little body was made for him.  That pissed him off, because now that he’d given in, he knew she’d be like a drug he needed to survive.  He’d become an addict and she would control him with his need.  He would overlook faults, bury his head in the sand, because if he acknowledged them, he couldn’t have her.

Like Mona.  Gray gritted his teeth and pushed that thought from his head.  Instead, he zoned into the book.  Ryker’s Revenge would become Grayson’s Revenge.  He was paying Sonia back for teasing him so mercilessly.

“Is this what you want, Jersey?” he growled, as overwhelming pleasure swamped him.  A tremor rocked her body as he held there and her inner muscles sucked at him.  Nothing had ever felt so incredible, he thought, dragging in ragged breaths.

This wasn’t about pleasure.  And it wasn’t about someone he shouldn’t be giving a second thought to.  A woman who’d almost ruined his life.  He was smarter now and would not ever let that happen again.  Gray was the one in control here. He grabbed her hair and twisted it in his fist to pull her head back toward him and lean in closer. 

“Answer me, Mo—Michaela,” he demanded.  Oh, fuck he was losing his mind.  This woman was making him lose it.

“Yesssss,” she hissed, with a gurgling moan.

With a growl, he held her hair and slid out halfway.  With a grunt, he pushed back into her hard and she wailed. Her walls tightened around him like a steel fist and Gray sucked in sharp breaths to find some control.  He slowly backed out of her again and her tight grip on his cock squeezed all his blood to the end, bringing playtime to an end. 

Digging his toes into the mattress, Gray released her hair to grip her hips and slammed into her. A tremor rocked them both and her groan of pleasure incited him to do it again. He picked up the pace, until he pounded into her time and again. 

Her sounds of pleasure, the sound of their bodies slapping together and his heartbeat pounding in his ears became the erotic soundtrack to his world.  Nothing else existed except those sounds and the waves of intense pleasure which carried him closer and closer to a release each time he entered her wet heat.

“Oh, Dio—mmmm,” Mickie moaned, as her passage became slicker, her inner walls vibrated around him and her body shook. 

Gray’s balls tightened, a surge of heat pushed up to his head to set his face on fire and his body jerked violently as the tension left him and flowed into her in a hot wave. He dragged in breaths and held her hips until they both stopped shaking.  When her body went limp in his hands, he lowered her to the mattress then floated down on top of her with a shuddering sigh of relief.

A minute later an odd sound—like a pistol being racked—split through the intoxicating endorphins in his head.  A shot of fear zipped through him and his heart raced as he sat up to meet the cold eyes of a dark-haired man in an expensive pinstriped suit. 

His calling card was the gun he held pointed at Gray’s heart. 

The mob had arrived, and their time had just run out.