Page 41 of Wild (Chicago Underground 4)

I couldn’t forget the word almost. He was almost throwing his career away for me, and that was a hell of a lot different than actually doing it. Maybe that was too much to ask of a man—almost definitely it was—but it was the only thing that could let us be together.

A cop and a prostitute had no future.

“You know I can’t,” I whispered. “What would happen when the dust settles, would I be some hooker you keep stashed away? Would you come and visit me, bring me presents?”

He made a rough sound of denial. “Fuck, Shelly.”

I laughed without humor. “There’s nothing for us.”

There was nothing for me. I knew it was true, but I waited for him to tell me I was wrong—that we did have a chance. He was a goddamned optimist. If anyone could believe in us, he could. I waited, and hoped, and held my breath.

“I’m not asking for forever, Shelly,” he said low.

No, he was asking for the same thing every man had ever wanted. At the end of the day, in the dark and on the run, he wanted what every other man did…

My body and my desire.

My trust, but only for a wild ride. And when that ride was over, he’d be gone.

Thank You