It's a late Friday night. It's a crowded location. It's the hottest new nightclub in Chicago. Lindsay and Burgess have been here for at least two hours –dancing the night away in six inch heels- waiting for something to happen; they're on the prowl for any type of suspicious activity. It's loud. The bass of the music shakes the ground they're standing on. Multicolored lights are flashing around the interior of the nightclub. They've been dancing for over an hour and it was definitely time for a much needed break. As they make their way towards the bar, the sweaty bodies of dancing clubbers momentarily rub against them as they squeeze through the crowd. Finding their way towards the only two empty barstools, Lindsay and Burgess caught the eye of the bartender and nodded when he rose up two martinis.

"Thanks," they say in unison as the drinks are set down in front of them.

Erin lifts her drink and takes the smallest sip, "…this is really good. Did you try it?"

"Oh my gosh," Kim whispers after taking a sip, "…this is amazing," she takes another sip.

"Ladies, focus," Voight reminds –his demanding voice loud in their ear piece. He leans towards the microphone in the surveillance van, "you're not there to taste test drinks. Save that for when you're not currently working undercover."

Voight was right. This wasn't the time for relaxing and enjoying the endless discount drinks that ladies night provided at the nightclub. This was the time to scope out the location for any signs of suspicious activities, threats, or any signs of women being preyed upon by an unwanted force. Erin and Kim were here because they resemble the four women who had been found dead in the last two months. They were undercover because they were young, brunette and white. They matched the description of his victims perfectly, so Intelligence saw the opportunity to put two great detectives undercover to scope and draw him out. When discovered, each woman was found with a missing body part and party beads around their neck; party beads that match those given out at the entrance of this nightclub. It was what each woman had in common besides their appearance; they all attended this nightclub at one point before being found strangled.

"Any suspicious sightings," Burgess asks, whispering into the earpiece lodged within her ear.

Mouse looks over his shoulder as the team watch the surveillance videos –when they shake their heads, he turns back to the microphone, "Negative."

The Intelligence team is cramped inside of a surveillance van parked in the parking lot of the nightclub. Mouse hacked them into the video feed of the club's surveillance cameras in order to provide extra eyes in scoping out the area and be aware of anything going on around them that they may not catch by themselves. Lindsay and Burgess had been at the club for the last two, almost three hours and this was their first drink of the night. They deserved it. After a long week of no leads and spending hours inside of a hot and crowded nightclub with men constantly eyeing you like candy and whistling as you dance, this drink was definitely warranted.

"Here you go," the bartender announces as he sets another drink down in front of Erin.

She lifts it up, "I didn't order this."

"The gentleman down this end of the bar," the bartender shouts over the music as he nods his head in the man's direction, "he ordered it for you."

Erin caught his eye –the man was watching her; smiling. She raised the glass further upwards, nodded her head to say thanks before downing the shot. With the now empty shot glass still touching her lips, Erin turns away from the man, "The man who just bought me a drink," she's facing Burgess, but her words are directed at Mouse, "what can you tell me?"

"The software is unable to get a good visual of his face," Mouse informs –his fingers are flying along the keyboard as he continues to try and scan the stranger's face. The lighting was dim and the surveillance camera only saw him at an angle. It was impossible to get a good read.

"Hey," Erin shouts –her fingers snap to earn the bartender's attention- she waves him over once he looks, "Do you know anything about the guy who bought me a drink?"

After throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder, the bartender responds, "I don't know him well, but I do know that he's been coming here a lot more frequently."

"When did he start coming?"

"…one, maybe two months ago."

"Thanks," Erin asserts, watching as the bartender nods before melting away into the cries of the many other thirsty clubbers shouting their drink orders, "Did you guys catch that?" She pushes the earpiece further into her ear as the club music's volume increases.

It's Dawson's voice that fills their earpiece next, "He started coming to the club around the time the murders started happening."

"You're still nursing your drink," Kim pushes her empty glass forward, "I can approach him."

"He ordered me a drink," Erin lifts her first drink and swallows the remaining contents before slamming the glass down onto the bar top, "…the least I can do is say thank you."

"Be careful," the voice of Jay fills her head. She hears the concern in his voice. She can picture the apprehension and the uneasiness on his face. She knows he's watching her. And all she can think of doing to ease his worry is look up, eye the surveillance camera and give him a wink of the eye. It's an assurance that she'll make it out of this just fine. It's a guarantee that she'll make it back to him –back to her husband.

Lindsay's hands press against the bar top as she pushes against it to step down from the barstool. Her hands ruffle up the back of her hair as the tips of her nails comb through the few tangles, "How do I look?" Erin's lips purse together as she straightens her posture.

Burgess smiles, "You look hot. Go get him tiger." She gives her best friend an encouraging pat on the back before sending Erin off to approach their first and only possible suspect.

It was dark in the club, but by now, Erin's eyes had already adjusted to the dim lighting. The multicolored flashes of light surrounded the dance floor leaving the area around the dance floor with low brightness. Any sources of light came from the neon signs on the wall which only managed to illuminate faces, cleavage and the standout hairstyles of the crowd. Erin excused her way through the crowd, and by the time she approached the farthest end of the bar, his stool was turned and he was facing her –watching her as she approached, "I was wondering when you were going to get the courage to walk on over." His feet rest upon the bottom bar of the stool he's sitting upon; his legs are bent and open as he leans his elbows back onto the bar top, "Wow, your eyes are absolutely stunning."

"I'm Erin," she introduces, extending her hand towards the man.

He takes her hand in his, "Tyler."

"I came to thank you for the drink."

Erin hears laughter fill her ear –she desperately wishes she could remove the listening device when Ruzek's voice fills her head, "Come on Lindsay. I'm sure you can flirt better than that."

"Hey," she muttered, briefly turning away from Tyler, "I'm a little rusty. I haven't flirted with someone in over two years."

"You two don't flirt?" Ruzek turns to face Halstead.

Jay rolls his eyes, "It's different."

"…because you're married?" Adam laughs, patting his closest friend on the shoulder, "Hey Burgess, whenever we get married let's not turn into these two."

"Shut up. I'm trying to work here." Erin growls, as she struggles to concentrate on Tyler's hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

A pair of hands wrap around her waist pushing her nerves on edge at the sudden contact. His confidence takes her by surprise –he pulls her close. His mouth near her ear, and his low voice whispers, "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."

"This isn't awkward for you?" She hears Kevin ask Jay.

"Zip it Atwater," Voight snaps; his eyes piercing warningly towards the younger detective.

"How about we take this to the dance floor?"

Tyler slides from the barstool; his arms never once unwrapped themselves from around her waist. Her eyes are locked on his, and there are absolutely no words that could describe the strong emotions radiating from them. She's irritated –she wants his arms off of her. He's infatuated –he's willing to remain like this for the rest of the night. Differing yet intense emotions bore out of their eyes. Without verbally agreeing to his dance floor proposal, Erin simply unraveled his arms from around her waist and set her hand gently inside of his palm. It was all the approval he needed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.

Burgess sits at the bar –watching- while nursing her third glass of alcohol. One leg is crossed over the other and her heels dangle at the edge of her foot. Any second they'll fall off and she will happily accept it. She has a foot massage waiting for her when she gets home. She watches as the song turns to a slow jam and Tyler pulls her best friend closer into his arms.

"If you weren't married, and he wasn't a suspect for four homicides I would say go for it," Kim chuckles, "he's kind of cute," –she sticks the toothpick into her mouth and bites off the olive.

"He definitely gives off a Ted Bundy type of charm."

Erin finds herself smiling at Ruzek's comparison. He's comparing a homicide suspect to a known serial killer. She felt Tyler's hands slide down her back causing her skin to bristle at the touch of his cold palm. The small, almost unnoticeable hairs on her arms rise as a nervous shiver trembles through her body. The smile remains on her face, and she can see him clearly infatuated with it. His hands continue to slide down her lower back.

"If they go down any lower, I'm coming in."

Her husband's voice startles her and she immediately raises Tyler's hands back to her hips, "Keep them where I can see them."

"Erin," his lips move against her ear as he whispers, "if you could see what I'm thinking, you'd definitely be blushing right now." His words spark a rush of blood to heat and darken her cheeks. Lindsay was red in the face, but she wasn't blushing at the poor attempt of a flirt he tried to dish out; she was blushing at the fact that her whole team –including her husband- had heard. His words were whispered into the ear the listening device rested within and seconds following his attempt to seduce her, her ears were filled with chuckles from her team. Chuckles had actually come from all of them, except for Jay and Hank. She heard Voight clear his voice and almost immediately the chuckles stopped. Personally, in her opinion, it was a horrible idea for Mouse to plant a listening device in her ear; it was awkward and she knows this type of stuff makes her husband uncomfortable regardless of whether or not he'll admit it.

"Cat got your tongue…" his mouth remains near her ear.

"Actually," she nods, drawing her head as far away from his mouth as possible, "yes. You have me speechless, which is a really hard thing to do. You're definitely charming."

"And very persuasive," he added as his hands squeezed tightly against the fabric of her dress that was wrapped securely around her flesh, "I have a question."

Her arms drape over his shoulders, "I may possibly have an answer."

"How do you feel about living on the edge and taking chances? Taking risks that could probably end very badly?"

The tips of her fingers trace the back of his hairline, "I'll try anything once; twice if I like it."

"Now that's what I call flirting Lindsay," she hears Ruzek applaud through the earpiece.

Only knowing him for almost an hour, Lindsay had already had their suspect wrapped around her finger. He was charmed with her; if it was possible to fall in love at first sight –if he even believed in that crap- then he was definitely enamored. Their hips rocked to the slow beat of the music; Tyler's groin occasionally pressing against hers, forcing her to plaster an irritated smile against her face in her efforts to pretend she's enjoying the contact.

His eyes stare into hers –he's completely smitten, "I just want to kiss you right now."

"…a little direct, huh?" She retorts, chuckling off his comment.

"When I want something, I go for it."

"So Jay," Atwater's arm is thrown around Halstead's shoulders, "how does it feel to hear someone going for your girl?" He's joking, but Jay doesn't find it funny.

"I'm not jealous if that's what you're asking."

Ruzek flashes him a look of disbelief, "I don't know if I believe you. Kim and I have been dating on and off for a year now and I would definitely be jealous if something like that were going on."

"Well the difference is Adam," Jay turns to his best friend and plasters a grimacing smirk onto his face, "she's my wife. At the end of the day, she's coming home with me. This is all an undercover act. She knows where she belongs when this is all over. I don't feel threatened. I have no reason to be. I trust her. And she's doing her job."

"We should get out of here," they tune back into the conversation at Tyler's suggestion.

Erin stops dancing –a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "We should."

"Are you jealous now?" Atwater jokes earning a hard glare from Voight. This was not the time to be joking. With the quick shove of the arm, Hank points at the surveillance video, "Shut it. They're on the move."

Burgess sets down her unfinished drink and hops off the barstool. Her drink becomes an afterthought as she watches Erin and Tyler walk off the dancefloor. Kim can tell he's eager; he's overly excited. The second she heard Erin agree to leave he had her hand in his and was practically pulling her off the dancefloor. Erin listens to the orders Voight gives to her through the earpiece; try to get Tyler to go left when leaving the club instead of right and lead him towards their surveillance van. If they were going to question him, they wanted to have him surrounded so he couldn't run and they wanted him to be as far away from civilians as possible so he couldn't try to hurt one of them or use them as leverage to get away. Erin feels Tyler's arm snug her securely against him as they walk through the completely filled parking lot. It's cold outside, but Erin chooses against voicing her thoughts on the temperature; it may cause him to try and hold her closer or drape his jacket around her shoulders. She wants to keep the contact to a bare minimum. She wants to get this over with so she can go home with her husband. Erin pictures Jay's arm around her when Tyler pulls her up against him even tighter.

"You're shivering."

She rolls her eyes, "I'm fine."

Erin feels Tyler's hand slide down her back before briskly sliding along her arm to take a secured hold of her hand, "I'm parked over here." He tugs her in the direction of his car.

"I'm parked that way."

He looks at her –he really looks at her and without any complaint he nods, "Your car it is."

Erin didn't bring her car –she rode over with Halstead straight from the district. Jay had his keys and he was currently in the surveillance van. She didn't think this far in the plan. All Lindsay knew to do was lead Tyler to the police van and then hopefully her team would take it from there. Erin slips herself from his hold and decides to walk ahead of him –she can tell he's watching her. His eyes are trailing up and down her body; he's objectifying every portion of her. And if it meant he would continue to follow her so they can bring him down, then so be it. He quickens his pace as he hears her pull out her car keys. She had to keep up charades. They were her keys, but they didn't go to any of the cars in the parking lot.

"I hope you guys are ready." Erin mutters into the dark night; she doesn't see the surveillance van yet. They're still parked spots away –out of their line of vision.

"We don't have eyes on you. There's no surveillance outside. We'll approach when you get him by the van. We don't want to draw too much attention just in case he's not our perp. We wouldn't want to scare the real one away."

Lindsay was prepared to respond to Voight; she actually had her reply ready, however at Tyler's tug of her arm, she's forced into silence. She doesn't want him to hear. It's too early for him to know that he's about to be surrounded. No matter how annoyed this man made her, she had to continue; she needed to keep up with the charade.

"You know," he turns her around in a swift motion; it's quicker than she has time to process, "I am going," he grips her waist and hastily flushes her chest against his, "to rock your world." Jay rolls his eyes as he listens. He's probably the only one more ready for this undercover operation to be over –he's ready for his wife back. He absolutely hates assignments like this.

"No no," she raises her finger and bites down innocently upon her bottom lip. Tyler was leaning in for a kiss; it freaked her out. Raising her finger as if she was scolding a disobedient child was the first instinct she had and with that finger she pressed it against his lips and pushed his face gently away. To her it was a rejection, but to him, it was her playing hard to get.

His lips puckered and pressed against her finger, "You're such a tease."

"No, not really…I just don't prefer making out in the middle of a parking lot." It was the first excuse that came to Erin's mind and she had to just go with it. She had no intentions of kissing him. The fact that he already kissed her finger had her weirded out. With her finger still pressed against his lips, she sees Burgess trailing behind; she's pretending to be on the phone and she's acting as if she's drunk, stumbling over her own feet and slurring her words.

Tyler chuckles after following Erin's line of vision; they're both watching Burgess. He actually thinks she's really drunk and her stupor is entertaining to him. He laughs loudly as he throws his arm back around Erin's shoulders, "Let's get out of here."

"So, Tyler," her arm wraps around his waist and they continue to walk in the direction of her so called parked car, "do you come here often?"

"I don't come here more than usual."

She laughs in confusion, "What does that even mean? How often is that?"

"Let's just say I'm a frequent visitor."

"How frequent?" She looks up at him.

"Frequent enough to know that this is your first time here."

This draws in her attention; her brows rise, "And how do you know that?"

"Because you're beautiful;" his answer was obvious; he speaks it as if she should have already known his reply, "there's no way in hell I would have missed your beautiful face if you've been here before. I'm positive about that."

"Do you pick up girls every time you go?"

"…only the sexy ones," He chuckles, earning an elbow to his ribcage, "Now, what's with all the questions?" His arm drops from her shoulders and her arm unwraps from his waist, "What's taking so long? Where's your car? Are we going to have fun or not?"

"Now who's the one asking all the questions?" Erin asks, jingling the car keys in her hand and quickening her pace in order to walk ahead of him, "Patience Tyler. All good things come to those who wait. My car is parked right over there." She points at the one car parked directly beside the surveillance van. It wasn't hers. She actually had no idea who the car belonged to, but it was the closest to the van and all she really needed to do was get him as close to the surveillance van as possible.

Burgess is casually leaning against the side of the building. She's pretending to take a phone call outside –requesting a taxi. It's all an act. She's just watching Tyler and Erin as she fumbles through her keys. Tyler sees her; he watches Burgess as she watches Lindsay, "What's taking you so long? The chick over there keeps staring."

Erin stops looking through her keys and looks up to crossly eye Tyler, "What did I say about patience?" She asks in a sing-song voice; it's flirtatious and light.

"You're taking a pretty long time. How many keys do you even have on that thing?"

Erin rolls her eyes; the impatience evident on her face. She turns away from the car and faces the van; he's close enough. She knocks on the van's window, "guys, seriously any day now."

"Who are you talking-"

Before his question could be finished or an answer could be given, the van's doors slide open. The front doors burst open and the woman leaning against the wall of the club pretending to be on her cell phone rushes over. It's as quick as a flash. Chicago PD is shouted out of each of their mouths –in unison- their faces stoic as they completely surround him. One second, he was about to have fun with the hot brunette he met in the club and the next second, he's surrounded by people with guns. Out of fear and instinct, his hands fly into the air and he immediately backs away. His body soon enough comes into contact with another, and he turns to see it's the woman who he was planning to spend the night with; it's the woman who had him wrapped around his finger from the moment he treated her to a drink.

"What's going on?"

"I'm sorry Tyler," he hears Erin say as she grips her badge; it was attached to a chain around her neck, but hidden underneath her dress with the club's beads masking the silver chain, "We need you to peacefully come with us. You're a suspect in our case."

"Suspect?"

Olinsky chimes into the conversation, "Mind coming to the station to answer a few questions?"

"This is a big misunderstanding."

Ruzek's grip around the handle of his gun tightens as he growls at the suspect, "How so?"

With his hands still raised in the air, his eyes scanned the surrounding detectives before settling upon Voight. He didn't know him, but he could tell he was the boss. Everything about Voight screamed that he was the one giving the orders; he was the man in charge.

"I don't have a weapon on me," Tyler informed Voight as his right hand slowly lowered and dug into his pocket, "I'm just getting my credentials."

Hank holsters his weapon and steps forward, "Your credentials?"

"I'm Detective Tyler West," he informs, withdrawing his own badge from his pocket, "I'm here investigating a case as well."

"Oh yeah, where's your backup?" Jay questions, keeping his weapon raised and pointed.

"It's an off the books undercover assignment." Tyler says it in spite as he feels the sergeant of the team snatch his badge away. He was verifying the validity and legitimacy of it.

"You usually try to take women home during your undercover assignments?" Halstead retorted the second Hank handed Tyler back his badge.

Tyler winks at Erin, "Only the pretty ones." Jay catches it.

"What district are you from?" Voight asks; his hands stuff into his back pockets. He doesn't trust people right away –badge or no badge- it doesn't make him automatically trust anyone.

"District 19"

Olinsky holsters his own weapon, "You're definitely out of your comfort zone."

"Anything for the job"

Tyler instantly relaxes the second the remainder of the team holsters their weapon. His tense shoulders loosen as each weapon is locked away back into its strap against the detectives' hips. Each set of eyes –including the pair of the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen- were resting upon the sergeant. They were waiting for his orders; ready to act out whatever demands he made.

"So if I were to contact your district and ask them to verify your undercover assignment, they would know what I'm talking about?"

Tyler nods his head to answer Voight's question, "Yeah, well it depends on who you ask; like I said, this is an off the books assignment."

Hank hated indirect answers; indirection made him feel like someone was hiding something. He didn't feel like rustling through the weeds to distinguish what's true and what is not. He had his team. This was their case. They didn't need help. Voight turns his back to Tyler and grabs the handle of the driver's side door –he's ready to get out of here, "This case is in our district."

"The first body was found in mine."

Voight was so close to getting into the surveillance van and driving away, but Tyler's remark stopped him from stepping into the van, "You're not going to drop this case, are you?"

"I like to finish what I started." His eyes run from Voight –scans his whole team- and then settles on Erin, "I started investigating this case before your unit; I'm pretty sure I know more about this case than anyone." His words are desperate; he has no intentions of dropping this case, and after reading the exasperated expression on Erin's face, he turns back to face her boss, "We're all on the same side here. We should at least work together."

"I hate working with people I don't know. I hate working with other districts too. They don't run like we do."

"Well since I'm not dropping this case, and it sounds like you're not either, we've reached an impasse sir."

Hank slams the car door shut; he remains outside and sharply turns around to face Tyler, "My team is working this case and we'll take it from here detective; now if you would be kind and provide us with the files you have on it, that would be great."

"You want my files, you let me help. I want this guy just as bad as you do."

"I don't take orders from anyone."

Tyler's hands brush together before raising into the air to signal some sort of defeat or willingness to play by Voight's rules, "I just want to help. I'll work under you."

"I don't answer to anyone."

"This is an off the books case, you won't have anyone from my district to answer to."

Against his earlier wishes, Voight glares harshly before shoving his hand out towards the detective, "…then you're temporarily welcomed to our squad." West takes a hold of Voight's hand and his grip was stronger than he pictured for a middle-aged man; Hank initiates the shaking of their hands, "Be at the district by eight am tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Hank snatches his hand away from Detective West and turns around to resume getting inside of the surveillance van. It has been a long day; it has been an even longer night and he was ready to start fresh tomorrow morning. Hopefully with Tyler's case file, they'll be closing the case sooner than later. The lives of other women and justice for the women who already died were at stake, and Voight vowed to protect this city and the people in it. He started up the engine as Mouse crawled into the passenger seat; a laptop opened on his lap. Without Voight having to tell him, he's already running a detailed background check on their new detective provisionally joining their team. Voight didn't trust everyone, but a clean background check would definitely help build the bridge towards trusting this guy.

As Voight sits in the car –beside Mouse-, Olinsky and Atwater climb into the back of the van. Voight was their ride out of there. West can see the sergeant's eyes glaring at him through the side mirror; he wasn't bothered. Tyler smiles and waves at the older man before turning to face Erin; she was the reason he's out here; it was a big misunderstanding, but they got over it. Tyler simply ignores the glare coming from their sergeant as he turns to face Erin –she's biting down against her bottom lip, "I guess we'll be seeing more of each other." Her eyes roll in response and he definitely doesn't take the hint, "I'm assuming that isn't your car and you didn't bring it," He withdraws his keys from his pocket and dangles them in front of her, "how about a ride?"

"Her ride is taken care of," it's all Halstead needed to say as he wraps his arms around her shoulders. He didn't need to hit the guy for continuously coming onto his wife. He didn't need to curse him out and embarrass him in front of everyone. He didn't need to do any of that because at the end of the day, he's the one going home with Erin. Halstead drove his car here, and with Erin's arm wrapped around the Kevlar vest strapped around his chest, she holds him close as he leads her towards his parked car –West watches them walk away. He isn't intimidated. He's isn't deterred; he enjoys a challenge, and everything great in his life didn't come easy. It's always the things you work for that offers the greatest reward. Tyler West knew that; he believed in that wholeheartedly. He's going to work this case with the Intelligence Unit, and he's going to make Erin fall in love with him. It's a given; women are unable to resist his charm and his good looks. So, as he watches them leave, he inhales a quick breath of air; tomorrow is a new day and new days offer new chances.

The ride home for Erin and Jay was quiet; it's always awkward after undercover assignments like this. The heavy weight of the flirtation between her and Tyler was thick in the air. It was the metaphorical elephant in the car. And when Jay parked in front of their condo without so much as a word or look her way, she knew he was bothered. He always tried to not act like he's jealous, but Halstead was human and he was a man; what man wouldn't get jealous when another man deliberately flirts with his wife? In Tyler's defense, he didn't know she was married –not that it would change anything.

"We can't go to bed angry," she says; following behind him as he walks up their front steps.

He shoves the key into the door, "I'm not angry."

"You're angry Jay," she responds, correcting his earlier tale. It was evident. The lack of eye contact, the constant avoidance of conversation and the stiff body language was all signs that pointed to him being angry at her.

Without another word, rebuttal or complaint, he unlocks the door. She walks in first, and before she could even broach the subject of Tyler, the front door is slammed closed, his arms circle her waist and his lips are pressed against hers. It was her favorite kind of kiss. Pull her tightly against his chest. Push her roughly against the wall. Kiss her passionately with no intention of stopping any time soon. She unclasps the Kevlar vest from around him; it's heavy as she pulls it over his head. Their lips disconnected briefly only to allow the vest to be taken off.

"You know," she whispers; her lips against his, "you should get angry more often." She's tugging aggressively at his belt buckle.

He pulls his shirt over his head, "I already told you," he grins; his lips hovering millimeters in front of hers, occasionally brushing with every word he says, "I'm not angry."

Her hands grip his face, "Whatever you are, it's definitely hot." She breathes out before pressing her lips back against his. Erin moans into the kiss as she feels her dress loosen around her; he unzipped her. She shimmies herself out of the dress and kicks it somewhere off to the side.

"…just don't make a habit out of it."

Her eyes are open wide; she's actually curious, "A habit out of what?"

"…making me jealous," he whispers; his lips falling to the dip in her neck and a graceful laugh radiates from her core. Soft kisses are tickling her neck as he trails them downwards.

Her hands rise above her head, allowing him access to whatever portion of her body he needed, "I don't like that guy," she admits; his lips ghosting over the pulse point in her neck.

"Let's not talk about that guy," he kisses her roughly; the skin on her neck burning with a pleasurable sensation. He's leaving his mark. He's claiming her as his own. She's his wife; she's his girl –no one else's.

Halstead temporarily relieves his reddening lips by removing them from her neck. Her eyes are closed, but they open the second contact is lost. She missed the feeling of his lips against hers. He reaches beside her and locks the front door; his other arm remained rested on her hip. He never once wanted to lose contact.

"You know," his free hand takes a hold of her chin; her lips are puckered, patiently waiting for contact with his, "Tyler was right about one thing."

"And what is that?"

"Your eyes are beautiful."

And with that, she doesn't wait for him to initiate the kiss; she aggressively does it herself.