by Quinn, Cari
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
“The bay can see you. If someone really wanted to look close, there would be a hint of lace here.” He slipped his hand up along my breastbone and followed the scalloped edge of my camisole. “They could see me press you into the window.” His fingers coasted higher to wrap around my throat. “Can you stay still, Ms. Copeland?”
I swallowed against the light pressure. My panties were soaked.
He knew every kink I never knew I’d had.
“I can’t hear you, Ms. Copeland.” He jerked his belt with his other hand.
“Yes, Mr. Carson.”
He nipped my earlobe, tugging until there was a tiny spark of pain.
I groaned.
“Shh.”
My lips parted. The bay was dark, save for the lights from all the boats in their docks. Some were moving, but most were still. It was late, and winter kept the shipping tours to a minimum.
A cool breeze slid between my thighs as he inched my skirt up. “I watched you dress this morning.” His voice was a low purr. “I didn’t get to enjoy your silky layers for these perfect breasts.” He dropped his fingers to pluck at my nipples before sliding his hand back to my throat. “But I saw these.”
I groaned as he traced the fingers of his other hand over my thigh-high tights. “I was a little disgusted by my reaction to what was essentially oversized knee socks.” He brushed his cock across my ass. “I thought I was beyond prurient schoolgirl fantasies, but as usual when it comes to you, there are no boundaries.”
If he touched me I was going to come. Simple as that.
I wasn’t sure what it was about his voice, but add in the orders, and I was so done for.
“How’s the ankle today, Ms. Copeland?”
“Good,” I whispered. I was already stronger after just a few days. I was definitely strong enough for this.
“Excellent. Open your legs, Ms. Copeland.”
I widened my stance as he tore into a foil packet. He lowered himself until we were aligned, then he slid my panties aside and drove into me.
“No sounds. Don’t move.”
My eyelashes drifted down until the world was darkness and twinkles of light.
And Blake’s cock driving into me again and again.
His breath was a panting groan in my ear as he took me ruthlessly. Slamming thrusts that pushed me up onto my toes. I slapped the glass and held on even as he held me still.
Each scrape of his shaft worked over my swollen flesh. I couldn’t move, so all I could do was feel. Fullness, lust, devotion. It all coalesced into a brain-scrubbing release.
My legs shook first, then my breath, and finally, my whole body. His fingers tightened on my throat as he hit his end. He jerked against me and my name was a breath.
“Grace.”
He slid his hand away from my neck and wrapped it around my waist as he kissed my shoulder, then turned me into his arms.
My skirt slid down to hold in his heat and the remnants of our releases. I wanted to hold this close for just a moment before reality, and cameras, and security intruded again.
I tipped my chin up and he kissed me lightly before he withdrew and hid the condom away in a handkerchief. Casually, he stepped back and straightened the lines of his suit.
“Ready to go home, Ms. Copeland?”
I nodded and wore a secret smile through the gallery, and into the bathrooms where I put myself back together.
He waited for me, and we returned upstairs to our floor.
“Do you want to look at the files while no one else is around?”
Blake shook his head. “I think we should use our personal computers at home.”
“Even though this is a closed system?” I asked.
“Especially since it is. Our eyes only.”
I nodded. “All right.”
We gathered our belongings, as well as the rice container, and headed down to the lower level.
“Who are you?”
I grinned at Vi. “Leaving before seven. It’s a miracle.”
“Is the sky falling? Meteor shower tonight?”
Blake gave her a bland look.
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Have a good night, boss.”
“Good night, Violet.”
The trip crosstown and into Blake’s townhouse development was a quiet affair. Not an uncomfortable one, just quiet for once.
When he opened my door for me, I realized I’d dozed off sometime between Boston and Lynn. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You’re still in recovery, even if you won’t own up to it.”
We headed up the walkway, hand in hand when Blake suddenly stopped and shoved me behind him.
“Blake?”
“Get in the car, Grace.”
“What? What’s wrong?” My heart rate galloped.
“The door’s open.” He turned to me. “Go, get in the car.”
“No, we’re going to both go to the car and call 911.”
He reached into his briefcase and came out with a handgun.
My eyes widened. “When did you start carrying?”
“We’re a security company, Grace. I know how to use a gun.”
I gaped. Of course he knew how to use one. There had been the shooting at my grandmother’s house, and it sure as hell hadn’t been me who had pulled the trigger. But spur-of-the-moment self-defense and toting around a concealed weapon seemed very different. “Glass security is not the same thing.”
“Please, do as I say.”
I fumbled for my phone.
“No cops,” he commanded. “Not unless you hear something.”
Eight
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I whispered…sort of.
The fact that the gun looked so comfortable in his hand was enough to send me to the Range Rover.
When he disappeared into the house, I held my breath the entire time.
He finally came down the walkway a few moments—or a million years—later. I couldn’t seem to pull time into any semblance of order.
He waved me out of the car, the gun no longer in his possession.
I got out and slammed the door. “What the hell, Blake?”
“Come inside. I called Jack.”
“Now you call the Army Ranger?”
“Now they’re not just breaking into your grandmother’s house.”
I gripped my purse to my chest. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“I don’t think they’d be convinced there was a break-in.”
I followed him inside. “But you are?” When he gazed back at me, I held up a hand. “Never mind. Of course you can tell.”
“It was a methodical search, and they were smart enough to get past my security. They also seemed to know where my cameras were.” He brought in his laptop and set it on the kitchen island. He tapped a few keys and the video feeds came up.
I wasn’t sure I even knew how many cameras were in the house.
We’d had sex all over the damn place.
“Do you keep a running tape at all times?”
He nodded. “I usually review it weekly and dump it.”
“Usually?”
“We’ve been a little busy.”
I popped each of my knuckles with my thumb. “Are we…um. Hmm.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “We’ll revisit that conversation, all right?”
“You’re damn right we will.”
An insistent banging on the front door halted our conversation. Blake went to answer it, checking the peephole before he swung open the door.
“What the fuck, son?”
Blake’s face was murderous. He paced the length of the kitchen, then back again.
I put my hands on my hips. “For God’s sake, just tell him.”
When he gave me a mutinous look, I went over to Jack and hugged him. “I’m sorry. He’s being an asshole.”
“Great,” Blake muttered.
“Well, you are. He’s your best friend, Blake.”
Jack dumped a case onto the table. “I brought my equipment. Now are you going to bring me in on this little secret society crap you two have got going?”
I opened the rice container and fished out the memory stick.
Blake snatched it out of my hand. “Remember the night someone broke into the old Stuart place?”
Jack nodded. “Sure, the beach house. I thought it was kids.”
“No. Someone’s been looking through the house for this. Or so we think anyway.” He dropped the diary onto the kitchen island.
Jack picked it up. “Gracie dropped this last week. On the steps.”
Blake nodded, then took it back from Jack. “It was a diary from her grandmother.”
Jack crossed his arms. “Something juicy in there, I take it?”
“It’s in some sort of code.”
“Like I need a decoder ring deal type of code?”
I stepped forward. “More like codenames for people. I’ve figured out a few, but for the most part it seems to be some sort of shorthand to protect the not-so-innocent.”
Jack leaned his hip against the counter. “Are we in an episode of Revenge?”
I laughed. “Good analogy. I don’t think there’s that much murder involved, but we’re starting to wonder.”
Blake covered the diary with his palm. “It seems that people really want this diary.”
Unless there was something else even worse hidden in the house. But I didn’t want to think about that possibility. Imagining these men—or women or whoever the hell they were—digging around for my grandmother’s old secrets was awful enough.
The word why had become a continuous chant in my head.
Jack glanced down at me. “Where’d you find it, Nancy Drew?”
“I designed the stained glass over the back door. Sometime in the last five years, my grandmother replaced one of the panes with two pieces of Blake’s glass. She hid the diary in between the two panes.”
“Wow. Really?” Jack picked up the diary. “I guess it’s small enough.”
“They’ve been breaking into the beach house and systematically breaking all the decorative glass, so I went through the house for the last few weeks, double-checking every single corner.” I shrugged. “I found a book-sized pane that slid up. She must have been using it for years.”
“Well, damn. What’d the old biddy have on people? Blackmail? Sex, drugs, and rock and roll?”
“Be serious for half a second in your life, would you?”
Jack’s face sobered. “Look, son. I may make jokes, but I’m fucking serious about my friends. I’m just trying for a little levity in this crazy-ass story.” He shook his head. “You should have come to me weeks ago about this.”
Blake blew out a breath. “I thought you might be involved.”
Jack’s brows snapped down. “What? How could you—”
I stepped between them. “Look, Jack. You didn’t tell him you were watching me, for one thing.” I smacked his arm. “Eww, by the way.”
Jack bunched up his shoulders. “I wasn’t spying on you in your underwear, Gracie. Just making sure all you were doing was using the house as a studio.”
“Yeah, well, both of you were keeping secrets.” I waved a hand in the direction of my lover. “When he found one of your cufflinks at the house after the break-in, he went all Blake.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Blake asked.
I could tell he wasn’t pleased I was sharing what he’d told me about Jack in a weakened moment of total honesty. He would probably start glowering again anytime now.
Jack shook his head. “You have a very suspicious mind, Mr. Carson.”
“I get paid to have a suspicious mind,” he said with a frown.
“Now that we’re all on the same page, can you please help us figure out the memory stick?”
Jack flipped open his bag and pulled out a laptop. “It’s a secure set-up so no one should be able to see what’s on this except us. Does that satisfy your crazy side?”
Blake nodded. “Yes.”
I shook my head. He didn’t even deny it anymore.
Jack plugged in the memory stick. His fingers flew over the keys, then his brow furrowed. “Damn, grandma.”
I moved beside him and peeked at the screen. “What?”
“It’s password encrypted. Like hacker-protected.” He pushed the laptop back. “I’m good, but this is way above my paygrade.”
“Your paygrade is damn good,” Blake muttered.
“I know.” Jack cracked his knuckles. “Let me try one last thing.”
I watched the code go by on the screen and got dizzy with all the lines of letters and numbers.
“Seriously? Who the hell put this together?” He slammed on the keys and put together a very inventive string of insults.
Jack pressed his palms to the counter. “I need to call a friend.”
“Hell no.” Blake shook his head. “It’s bad enough I had to involve you in this.”
“They’re trustworthy.”
“If I don’t know them, they’re not trustworthy.”
“I’d trust Aidan Roth with my life. Hell, I have.”
I gripped Blake’s arm. “We’ve got to trust someone, Blake.”
He glared down at me. “You’re asking me to trust them with your life.”
“So far all they want is the diary.”
He clenched his jaw so tight muscles on either side flexed. “Do it.”
“Good.” Jack pulled out his cell and dialed. “Hey, buddy,” he said as someone on the other end picked up. Jack paced away and gave his friend a breakdown of what we’d been discussing.
Blake went from pacing to a stillness that worried me. When he got this silent and motionless, he actually scared me a little. Okay, maybe more than a little.
Jack came back into the room. “Okay, say hi to Lucy everyone.”
“Who the fuck is Lucy?” Blake said in a thunderous voice.
The woman on the FaceTime screen waved. “Me.” Her hair was so black it had a blue sheen to it. Her eyelashes were tipped in cobalt blue and her huge blue eyes were perfectly lined with an intricate black eyeliner. “So, here’s what we’re going to do. Jack is going to plug me into his laptop from the phone so I can get in there and do my thing.”
Blake clasped his hands at the back of his head. “Fuck.”
“Don’t worry, Intense Dude. I’m just going to crack the code and let you guys look at what’s inside. I’ve got clearance higher than your entire company combined. I don’t give two shits what’s on granny’s diary.”
“Annabelle would be flipping out at all the shots about grandmothers,” Blake said.
“Yeah well, this granny kinda rocks,” Lucy said from the FaceTime screen. Her fingers flew over her double keyboard. “But I’m better.” Ten minutes later, and another lesson in insults later, she slapped a cup down on the table on her side.
I jumped.
“Got it.”
Jack clapped. “You are my goddess, Lu.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She tipped her head and I noticed the ends of her hair were the same blue as her lashes. “Peace out, bitches.” And the screen went black.
Folders unfurled on the screen. Folders inside folders, and spreadsheets. So many spreadsheets. It was going to take us weeks to decipher it all.
“Holy shit,” Jack said.
I swiped my hand over my face. “What the hell were you into, grandmother?” I frowned. “What’s that file? It’s not a spreadsheet.”
Blake pushed Jack out of the way and popped open the Word document.
“It looks like more diary pages.” He tabbed through them. “And a video file.” He doubleclicked the file and my Grandmother’s face filled the screen.
Eyes so much like my own stared back at me.
“If you’re seeing this video, then I’m dead. Whomever is watching this must protect my granddaughter, Grace Cordelia Copeland. She’s in danger.”
* * *
Thanks for reading THE BOSS 5. To read the thrilling conclusion of Grace and Blake’s sexy, dangerous story, one-click THE BOSS 6 now.
She doesn’t know how bad I’m willing to be…
For years, Grace Copeland was the one woman I couldn’t have. Now she’s mine.
Mine to possess. Mine to protect.
Mine to kill for.
He doesn’t realize how far from good I’ve come…
Blake Carson was first my nemesis, then my boss, and now my lover. He’s determined to shield me from the threat that surrounds us, closer than we could ever guess.
But I’m no one’s damsel, and I might be going down…but I won’t go down alone.
This time, when we fight, we’ll fight back to back—or not at all. No matter the consequences.
Win, lose, love, death. Whatever it takes.
One-click THE BOSS 6 now.
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The Boss Vol. 6
My assistant was in danger.
My lover.
My…Grace. She was mine in so many ways, and I’d wanted her for so long that I scarcely remembered what it was to breathe without her in my head. She’d intoxicated me from the first day I’d laid eyes on her so many years ago.
Now I had to worry someone wanted to cause her harm. Worse, that her grandmother’s tangled past and my own misdeeds would be the catalyst.
Would you like to read more?
THE BOSS VOL. 6!
Quinn and Elliott
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