bullshit competitive over it. I mean sure, I was all for some macho bullshit, but give me a fight to win and an ass to kick if you wanted to get me riled up about something. Running though? Naw, I wasn't gonna get my panties in a twist about that.
Tatum was sitting opposite me, finishing up her food while I watched her, wondering if I'd ever get bored of just looking at her like that. She caught me of course, arching a brow which was a challenge in itself and I jerked my chin at her, telling her to get her ass over here.
She smiled seductively, lifting a spoonful of yogurt to her lips and licking it slowly before swallowing it down. She held my eyes while she did it, knowing exactly what she was doing to me and my dick got hard for her with no trouble at all.
I held my ground, watching the show and waiting her out as she made a meal of that freaking yogurt, making me wish that I was it.
"I’ll prove it to you then," Blake challenged, jumping up with an excited grin.
"You're on. But don't start crying when I beat your ass and you realise that your techniques are inferior," Monroe replied cockily as he got up too. "Does anyone else wanna join us for a race?" he added, glancing around while Blake practically bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.
"What distance are you running?" Saint enquired casually without looking away from his laptop.
"Ten K," Monroe replied.
"Fifteen," Blake countered. "Unless you can't hack it?"
"Make it twenty then," Nash upped and I chuckled at their bullshit.
"Perhaps you'd better get going then," Saint suggested before Blake could raise the stakes again. "Winner gets this." He pointed at a folded napkin before him as he finished writing #1 on it and Blake beamed.
"That winner's napkin is mine, old man."
"When I win it, I'm gonna use it to wipe my ass then flush it away," Nash replied as the two of them offered Tatum brief kisses then hurried out of the room, shoving each other and bickering.
The sounds of their voices carried away from us and Tatum finally set her spoon down.
I took my hands from behind my head and patted my knee as I met her gaze, summoning her to me again and she smiled as she slowly rose to her feet.
"I'm so hot," she purred in a voice that drew Saint's attention from his laptop as she slid her cardigan off of her shoulders.
"I can help you out with that, baby," I promised her, and she gave me a lingering look before shrugging.
"Thanks for the offer, baby, but I think I'm just gonna go for a swim instead. I'll catch you later." She winked at me then turned and strode out of the room as I battled with the desire to chase after her like a whipped bitch or keep my composure and suffer the blue balls.
"Dammit," I muttered, taking my boots from the table and letting the legs of my chair slam back down onto the hardwood floor.
"If you think you're frustrated, you should try sifting through all of this," Saint said, pointing at his laptop and looking like he was tempted to smash the damn thing.
"Why don't you just go public with what you've got?" I suggested. "Let the world know exactly what kind of a scumbag Governor Memphis really is."
"Because," Saint hissed through clenched teeth. "Then he really will run. I may be having trouble determining his exact location at the moment, but I do know that he won't be far away. He won't leave his precious state and the power he has accrued here that easily. If we give the FBI or the press the information we have on his involvement in Royaume D’élite and the deals they were making in that place, then he will be on a private jet and out of the country before the first news report is even over. And then we will never find him again. Even the financial ruin I have primed for him won't be enough to stop that. There are accounts that I won't be able to shut down quickly enough, friends I haven't quite got enough dirt on or even just low lives willing to take a bribe to help him."
"Can I do something to help?" I asked, because it looked like my ideal plans for the morning had just gone swimming in the indoor pool. Though I