The holding room was different today. The air was heavier, tense. The suspect chained to the table wasn’t like the others.

Derek Hale.

He sat relaxed in his chair, cuffs tight on his wrists, black hair falling into his eyes. Young, tall, broad shoulders filling the orange detention shirt. He looked smug, almost bored, even as three officers paced around him.

“Where are the cars, kid?” one barked. “We know you’re moving stolen parts across the docks. Talk!”

Another slammed the file down. “Names. Gangs. Who the fuck are you working for?”

Derek just smirked, licking his lip ring. “I don’t talk to pigs.”

The officers cursed, frustrated. Finally, one muttered, “Bring Stiles.”

The door swung open.

Click. Click.

Officer Stiles entered in her scandalous uniform — blouse gaping open, skirt short enough to flash thigh, stockings clinging to her legs. She swayed her hips deliberately, knowing everyone was watching.

But when her eyes landed on the man at the table, she froze.

And so did he.

“Stiles…” Derek’s smirk widened into a cruel grin. “Well, well. So the rumors were true.”

Her throat tightened. “Derek…”

The officers looked between them, confused.

“You two know each other?”

Derek chuckled darkly, leaning back in his chair, eyes raking over her body. “Know her? Oh, I know her. She used to be my girl. Sweet little Stiles.” He tilted his head. “Didn’t expect to see her here, though. Dressed like a fucking slut cop.”

Stiles swallowed, heat pooling in her belly. “Shut up.”

But Derek only leaned closer, smirking. “So it’s true. The department slut. I thought it was bullshit when I heard whispers… but no. It’s you, Stiles. My ex. My filthy bitch, letting every old cop in here squeeze those fat tits.”

Her knees nearly buckled. He still had that effect on her.

“Fuck you, Derek,” she snapped, circling the table. “This isn’t about us. This is about the cars. The gangs. Where are they?”

He stared straight into her eyes, a wicked grin curling his lips. “Oh, you’re dripping already, aren’t you? I can smell it from here. The second I called you a slut your pussy got wet, huh?”

Stiles clenched her thighs together, cheeks flushing. “Answer the damn question.”

Derek tugged at his cuffs, muscles flexing. “What happened to you, Stiles? You used to be mine. Now you’re the precinct’s cumdump.”

Her voice trembled, equal parts anger and arousal. “At least I’m not rotting in cuffs like a street thief.”

He laughed harshly. “Better a thief than a whore in uniform.”

The officers shifted uncomfortably, but none dared interrupt. They knew Stiles had her own “methods.”

She leaned down close to Derek’s face, tits nearly spilling out of her blouse onto him. Her breath tickled his ear.

“Tell me, Derek,” she whispered, voice dripping filth. “Tell me where the cars are. Tell me who you work with… and maybe I’ll remind you how good I used to suck your cock.”

His jaw tightened, eyes darkening with lust. He scoffed, but his bulge pressed obvious against the prison pants.

“You’re pathetic,” he hissed. “Begging me for info with that slutty mouth. But you’re right about one thing—” He leaned up as far as the cuffs allowed, his lips brushing her ear. “—nobody sucked my cock like you did.”

Her pussy clenched so hard she nearly moaned.

She pulled back, biting her lip, eyes flicking to his crotch. “Mmm… maybe I should prove I haven’t lost my touch. Right here. Make you confess while I’m choking on your cock.”

The room went silent.

The other officers stared, half in shock, half in anticipation. They all knew Stiles’s reputation.

Derek’s smirk returned, slow and dangerous. “You can suck me all you want, Stiles. Ride me, whore yourself out in front of your little cop buddies. But I’ll never tell you a damn thing.”

Her thighs rubbed together involuntarily, soaking wet.

She knew he meant it. He was the one man she couldn’t break.

And that only made her want him more.