43. Stake-out

**Friday evening...**

"Fuck...how much longer is this fucking shift going to last?" Lucy asked herself as she sat in the safety of her car, her butt and back aching after so many hours of sitting there, in that same position. She'd had her dinner there, played games on her phone, read a whole manga from beginning to the very end. Hell, she'd even watched a whole movie on her phone. And he still hadn't shown up. She was fucking losing it. Her patience. Her fucking wits. And she also needed to pee like, so fucking badly. She swore that if he wasn't going to pop out of that building in the next thirty minutes she was going to storm in there and just fucking drag him out herself. That is after finding a goddamned bathroom in there and peeing first, of course.

She sighed, carelessly throwing her phone in the front passenger seat. She was so fucking tired. She just wanted to go home and lay down naked in her bed. She was so sick of that tight dress clinging to her sweaty body, those stupid high-heels on her feet. She just wanted to get rid of all of those and fall asleep in her comfy bed, without the constricting feeling of any garments on her body.

But she couldn't give up though. Not now. It would've been a complete waste of time, after so many hours of diligently enduring it. All that heat. Those uncomfortable positions. She had to hold on, for just a little bit longer. She was so close. She could feel it. She just needed to hold on for a little bit longer.

She had a very serious reason after all. She needed to show him everything. What she'd found out so far. He needed to know everything. She needed help. And she was going to make him give it to her, whether he liked it or not.

*Make him give it to her*... That certain sentence remained stuck at the forefront of her mind, a knowing smirk pulling at her painted lips. She was also kinda eager to see him again. Detective Derek Hale. The man himself.

She could remember how much better he actually looked in person. So fucking sexy. Her pussy tingled as she let herself reminisce the image of him standing there in front of her, his crotch at her eye-level. It felt almost like an invitation. Beckoning her to slip to her knees and worship him, take that bad boy to town.

She'd fantasized about him, multiple times. Ever since she'd found that photo of his on the police department's website. She'd pictured herself in so many positions, so many sexy situations that involved him. Him fucking her on that desk he'd been leaning against. In a jail cell. In the back of a car. She'd made herself come several times with his name on her lips. Some of the hottest orgasms she'd ever had. But she hadn't experienced the real deal. Yet.

She could tell that it was going to be so fucking good. His body promised violence. Rough, raging sex. He'd reeked of pent-up frustration, from the very second that she'd thrown her arms around him that day, inside this very precinct that was now standing before her eyes. She could tell. The guy was severely under-fucked. And she planned to fix that. Later though. After she'd made herself sure that her best friend was safe first.

She scrambled in her seat as she suddenly noticed him exiting the red-brick building -finally- her heart jumping in her chest. Time to spring into action.

She rushed to put her seatbelt on as she watched him walk to his car. Damn. He still looked so fucking fine. Even better than she could remember. He was wearing another pair of dark blue denim jeans, the garment hugging those tight butt-cheeks so fucking nicely. A black leathered jacket covered his upper body, showcasing the massive expanse of his broad back. A back that she would be soon dragging her nails over. She was so sure of that. He was going to be the next male on her conquest list. And she'd never failed before. No matter how righteous or morally straight the guy thought that he was. They all caved, eventually.

She turned on the engine as soon as he'd climbed in his car, trying to draw as little attention as possible. She waited until the taillights of his sleek black Mustang flicked on, careful not to stick too close as he drove away, the girl swiftly following. They drove through the city, passing down several streets until he suddenly veered down a narrower block, entering a small and already packed parking lot. She swore and went further down the street, desperately searching for a parking space for herself as quick as possible. She was running out of time. She couldn't afford to lose him now. Not when she was this fucking close.

She breathed a small sigh of relief as soon as she spotted a place nearby, doing a quick and rather careless job of parking her car. Rules be damned. She had a bigger issue to deal with right now instead of making sure that the car behind hers had enough space to get out.

She grabbed her phone and purse and rushed to get out, softly wincing in pain as soon as her heels touched the asphalt. Her poor feet were already tired and swollen, even if she hadn't walked in hours. She simply ignored it and rushed back up the street where she'd seen him park, not surprised at all to notice that he'd already left his car. He was nowhere to be seen. But she didn't let that hinder her. And instead she walked to the first building her gaze fell on. A dingy bar.

She rushed towards the entrance, a foul smell hitting her as soon as she pulled open the wooden and weathered door. Cigarettes. Stale beer. Cheap cologne and the greasy smell of fries, all combined into a horrible stench.

She steeled herself and powered through it, gaze carefully darting around as she entered. The place was packed with people. Some sitting around small round tables whilst others lounged by the bar, enjoying their drinks and conversations.

She wasn't surprised at all to notice that they were all mostly male. Some of them curiously eyeing her. She didn't fail to also notice some shiny badges discreetly hanging around, along with dull black metal.

A cop bar. How utterly predictable. She almost rolled her eyes at that.

She straightened herself and walked further in, not giving a single flying fuck about their lingering stares. A young woman dressed in a sexy, flower-patterned silken dress and strappy high-heels. That was surely a sight to see. She couldn't care less though. She was here on a mission. And she was definitely going to-

Pee herself!

She mentally swore as her bladder suddenly started to angrily press against her insides again, to the point where she almost lost the battle.

Holy shit!

She desperately looked around, even noticing his broad back and dark hair as he sat by the bar before her gaze landed on the bathroom sign. Fuck. At least now she was sure that he was here. And without a second thought she rushed straight towards the ladies' room.

She barged in and rushed into the nearest stall, blowing out a loud sigh as she finally relieved herself. Fuck. That was a close call. She would've definitely peed herself, had she waited for another moment longer.

She quickly finished and then rushed to wash her hands, even wasting a few more minutes to make sure that she still looked good. She had to leave a good impression after all. One that she was definitely going to profit from later on.

She pulled open the bathroom door and then stepped outside, about to head to the bar area when a dark and broad figure suddenly blocked her way.

She raised her gaze to look up at him, not surprised to come face to face with none other than det. Hale himself.

She swallowed, her back swiftly straightening. Defiantly peering up at him. Deliberately choosing to disregard the fact that he was actually a whole fucking head taller than her, even with those very high heels donning her feet. And so much broader. Obviously.

"Have you come to make a fool out of me here as well?" His head tilted to the side. Arms crossing as he leaned against the nearest wall.

She blinked. Forcefully shaking herself out of that trance his deep blue eyes had so effortlessly put her in. Just like the last time. A with a narrowed glower she huffed, stepping aside before moving to walk past him. Her heart fluttered inside her chest as she could definitely tell that he was following. The sight of her naked back and swaying hips right in front of him.

She sat on an empty high stool by the bar, the one right next to hers the only available left. He took it, the wooden structure emitting the faintest groan under his massive weight. Her back immediately straightened again, forcing herself to remain impassive. Even though on the inside, her poor nerves had already skyrocketed. To say that she was nervous would be an understatement. She was fucking distraught. A complete mess. And she needed a drink like, fucking yesterday.

She sweetly smiled as the bartender approached her, his gaze fleetingly darting to her ample cleavage. She fought not to roll her eyes at that.

"I'll have a cranberry vodka, please," her head tilted to the side, putting an emphasis on that last word.

The bartender hesitated, throwing det. Hale a quick look before returning it to her. She audibly sighed, trading her smile for a visibly irritated look on her face. And with a quick roam into her purse she fished out her ID card, slamming it down on the wooden counter into a rather unceremonious way.

"Yes, I am twenty-one. For real," she flatly added with an eye-roll and a mild shake of her head.

"Feel free to look me up if you don't believe me, detective," she spat with a mock-sweet tone as she turned to throw det. Hale a disdainful look.

His gaze flitted between her face and the ID lying on the bar counter for a single moment before his attention averted towards the bartender, giving out a small nod.

Fuck. She blew out an annoyed breath, glowering between the two infuriating males. So she was old enough for him to stare at her tits but not enough for her to be able to buy her own drink, apparently.

*Fucking patriarchal crap and their*\- she forcibly swallowed that growl that threatened to form in her throat, spitting out a less-than-gracious "thank you" as the bartender quickly poured her the drink.

She took a sip to calm her raging nerves whilst det. Hale ordered a cold beer for himself. Silence falling between them for a moment.

She then turned to look at him, noticing him taking a swig from his beer bottle. His tongue darting out to lick that lingering wetness from his lower lip. Fuck. She fought not to shiver.

"Did you look into it?"