Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC by Evelyn Glass

alarm clock didn't go off,” grumbled Stella, eyes averted from the man. In the back of her mind, she realized the man looked a sight better in his uniform than in casual wear. Again, she shook the unwelcome thought away, irritated at his performance last night.
     
    “Yeah?” Stan eyed her, his tone skeptical and unsure.
     
    “Yes, Stan.” Stella rolled her eyes. She continued her trek into the PD toward her temporary office. Someone had called a tip in, and she was needed to review it as soon as possible. The sooner, the better, considering her company.
     
    The man scuffed along beside her. “I, uh, I heard Bishop took you home.”
     
    Stella stopped in the middle of the corridor. Her fingers clenched tightly at the flimsy cup in her hand as she turned. Pinning the man under a livid glare, she incredulously whispered, “You were spying on me?”
     
    “After I stormed off, I realized you'd need a ride home.” The man staggered backward a step, hands raised. The woman's lips pursed, eyebrows lowering in irritation. Despite her lack of reception, Stan continued, “I went back to apologize. You were gone. I asked around.”
     
    Eyes narrowed, Stella surveyed the man for a scant second. He shifted under her gaze, like a submissive wolf being eyed by the alpha. “Well, I'm all right.”
     
    With the discussion brought to an end, Stella continued toward her office. Bruises and tired muscles ached with every step, guiltily reminding her of what had happened with Bishop. She didn't get three steps before Stan spoke up again, “You know getting involved with the president of the Seven Tribesmen is a bad career move, right?”
     
    “I'm not involved with anyone. He took me home; he left. That's it.” As the man padded along behind her, Stella bit back the urge to kick him square in the groin. Instead, she continued to trudge forward, not even deigning the man a glance.
     
    A part of her relented. He was worried, and while that was sweet, it was completely unneeded. Of course, Stan was completely right. If anyone found out she had knocked boots with the head of the Seven Tribesmen, she'd be pulled off the case due to conflict of interest. Not that Stella was interested in Bishop at all. As far as she was concerned, last night was a fling. They were two adults who sated their sexual appetites. There was nothing wrong with that.
     
    “Really?” Stan's voice radiated both hope and skepticism. It made the woman's skin crawl. His concern should have warmed her with a sense of fondness, but Stella's pride retaliated. She paused for the second time in the corridor and eyed her companion with a critical gaze. Around them, the office continued about its business, bubbling with chatter and the scent of coffee.
     
    Before Stella could say a word, a local officer scurried up to her. She reached out a manila folder to the federal agent, “Agent Holmes, the Fairview PD just sent over some photos of 7T members. We also got a bite on the tip line. A recording is in your office.”
     
    “Thank you, officer.” The brunette turned abruptly to the officer, relinquishing the folder from her fingers. The other woman gave a curt nod, before disappearing down the hall. Stella stepped into her office, slamming the door shut as Stan moved to cross the threshold.

CHAPTER NINE
     
    The motorcycle roared through the streets of Grand River. A scowl firmly affixed to Bishop's lips as he squinted against the bright sun. Even with his sunglasses, the light glared into his tired eyes. It wasn't the bright light that agitated the biker, though. His thoughts continuously rounded on Stella Holmes. The way she leered at him, the way she made everything a hassle, and how she refused to listen about the Seven Tribesmen. Bishop's fingers adjusted their grip on the handlebars as he swallowed a growl.
     
    Never before had a woman irritated him so thoroughly while retaining his sexual interest.
     
    He'd have time to worry about that later, though.