The Hacker (The Bro Series Book 2)

by Xavier Neal

  All eyes cut my direction.

  Welcome to the truth about a life in shackles….Can’t always be where you wanna be even when it matters.

  “But Daddy,” Sage begins to pout.

  “I’m sorry, Sunshine. But I might have to work. There’s a big case that needs all my attention now so I can spend real Christmas with you.”

  “Miss Meena, you’ll take us, right?” Lynk says between bites. “Because it’s your job.”

  The table falls uncomfortably silent for a moment.

  Drawback of having a ten-year-old. Sometimes it’s difficult to know when they’re being a snarky smart ass or genuinely just trying to understand a situation. In all fairness, I’m still trying to understand the situation. It is her job to be there for them but if I took away the pay right now, I have no doubts, she would keep doing it and find another way to supplement her income. At this point doesn’t it make all this more than just work? She’s in love with me. She loves them. When is the right time to have her quit? It’s been four months and while we haven’t been fucking that entire time, in a way we’ve definitely been together. She didn’t date anyone else. She stayed by my side. She patiently waited for me to man the fuck up…She’s been mine much longer than the days we’ve been physical. If she quits…when she quits…how do I ask her to get a job that allows her life to still revolve around them? To not take another job that will send her out of the state or out of the country?

  Meena’s hand slides onto my leg under the table out of sight. “Yes, Lynk. It is my job to be there for you when your father can’t.”

  He nods and reaches for his orange juice.

  “But…I’m also there because I want to be.”

  Our eyes gravitate to her.

  “I love you. I love Sage. I love your Dad. I love getting to be a part of the all the fun and I love that you guys let me. Whether or not I get paid to be in your life doesn’t matter, Lynk. What matters is I want to be here. I want to see your soccer games. I want to see Sage hug Santa before we all have pancakes. And I want you to get an A on that history test,” she playfully makes a segue. “So, I suggest you finish up, brush your teeth, and be prepared to be quizzed in the car.”

  Lynk flashes her a grin and my hand lands on hers.

  I have nothing to worry about. How we make all this work, isn’t nearly as important as the fact that we do.

  And that we will.

  No matter what.

  I reach for the fluffy red towel off of the rack right outside of Holden’s glass shower.

  Our shower? Should I be calling it that? Technically, this shower is his and mine is downstairs, but I’ve been spending more and more time in this bathroom. In this room. In his life. The lines of separation are blurring, and I can’t help but be thrilled about it. Last weekend, after I went to a conference about the importance of reading with children under the age of 10 with Joanne, the four of us we went shopping as a family. The kids needed new winter clothes, thanks to their growth spurt in progress, but we left with much more than new wardrobes for them. While they got new clothes, we all got new bedding, though my bedding was for Holden’s bed since that’s where I lounge when we’re home alone or when I sneak up after the kids have successfully passed out, if he’s not working. We also all got new towels, again mine are for Holden’s bathroom, new red cookware, my favorite color, and frames for more up to date photos of the kids. Or at least I assume it’s for them. When I asked, he simply winked. It honestly feels like we’re getting to that point.

  I’m excited.

  I’m anxious.

  I’m terrified we’re going to take two steps back.

  That seems to be the pattern with us. Every time we move forward, every time I feel Holden is really past everything, we end up in an argument proving just the opposite. Lynk’s haircut. Sage wanting to give toys she doesn’t play with to kids at shelters. Both wanting to redecorate their rooms. Every decision they make needs his stamp of approval and only his apparently. Which I get. They are his kids. But whether or not he wants to admit it, they’re kinda mine too…

  “Hey, I’m-” Holden’s voice cuts itself off. His stare leisurely trails down my towel covered body, lapping up the drops with his eyes the way I wish his tongue would.

  I move towards the counter, and he bites his bottom lip when he catches a glimpse of my upper thigh. With a small snicker, I question, “Puedo ayudarlo?”

  He leans against the door frame. “Tell me that means you’re asking me to bend you over the counter and fuck you.”

  The specific choice of words grows wetness snuggly between my thighs. My back presses against the white counter top. With a crooked grin, I shake my head. “It doesn’t.”

  Holden saunters my way, hands attaching themselves to my hips the second I’m within reach. “It should…”

  Keeping my wet body from being pressed against his dress shirt, I adjust his crooked tie. “Are you trying to avoid going into the office?”

  He grouses, “I hate that place.”

  “Is it because you’re the only ‘criminal’ in there?”

  “Ha.” He rolls his eyes harshly. “Far from it. If the masses had any indication the people who ‘protect’ our country were in deed some of the dirtiest ones in it, there’d be coups and constant riots.”

  Sarcastically, I sigh, “Eso es reconfortante.”

  His fingertips graze the top of my chest. “It’s realistic.”

  I bite back the moan attempting to escape. “Is it gonna be a long day?”

  “Very.”

  “Home by lunch?”

  Holden reluctantly shakes his head. “Doubtful. I’ve got information overload to dump on them that they’re going to want to waste my time cross checking in front of me before hearing my actual plan for getting the auction head. With the way Murphy was whining on the phone, I get the feeling I’ll be lucky to be home by dinner.”

  My shoulders drop though I try to keep my attitude positive. “Well, we will set you a plate out just in case.”

  His fingers begin to trail to the side of my towel that’s keeping it in place. “What do you have planned?”

  “I don’t,” I answer, watching his movements. “This Winter Festival has all of my current brain power. After it’s finally over, I can think about other things.”

  Sage has asked me questions nonstop about it for over a week. And for some reason, Lynk grew overly enthusiastic about it two days ago and jumped on the bandwagon. It feels like the only thing they can think of is this thing, which means it’s primarily the only thing I can think of by proximity.

  All of sudden, Holden tugs my towel apart and presses against me, hot breath whispering in my ear. “You can think about something else right now.”

  I start to argue when the feeling of his finger lightly caressing my clit makes me voiceless. The effort to grab a decent breath is executed as his tongue invades my mouth in a hostile nature.

  When he pulls slightly back he states, “You’re already wet for me.”

  Another whimper rushes to fall from my lips yet I refuse to let him have all the fun. “It’s from the ducha…”

  Holden grumbles his discontent over my snarky retort, angles my body onto the counter in a better position for taking, and hastily removes his cock. Before I have the chance to say another word, he thrusts himself sharply inside. On a gasp of gratitude to be filled again, I let my head fall backwards, instantly engulfed by the ecstasy encasing me. My pussy clasps around his cock that’s callously continuing to pound without mercy. He groans his approval and secures his hand to the nape of my neck to yank my face forward. Our foreheads knock together as his eyes drop to where his dick is diving to the limits again and again. The combination of the dirty vision and the even dirtier sound sends my lips flying to his. His tongue crushes against mine in an array of staggered kisses. Between each one deep, primal growls escape.

  Holden’s lips relocate to knock against my ear again. “You’re gonna come twice for me, baby
.”

  My pussy twitches at the proclamation, prepared to deliver.

  I start to dip my head backwards once more, which causes him to yank me forward again. “I wanna spend the whole fucking day covered in you…”

  Unable to stop the rising moans that are transforming into loud shrieks, I reach for his tie and bite down on it to stifle the sounds.

  The action swells his dick.

  He stretches me further.

  Pants harder.

  “I come home to this pussy…”Another cry of content clogs my throat as he adds, “This pussy comes home to me.”

  Over the orgasmic edge I’m thrown into a deep erotic abyss. The muscles quake around him, body thrashing for room to freely extend their pleasure yet he holds me tighter. Possibly bruising my neck.

  I scream again, the tie I’m using as gag now an undeniable aid in preventing the children from hearing me.

  “That’s right baby,” his voice smugly states. “You fuckin’ scream for me.”

  Against my own volition my mouth repeats the action, except my pussy follows suit, warning of another orgasm very closely on the heels of the first.

  Holden’s body begins to tremble, but he keeps his cock steadily shredding me apart. Shredding my entire existence into shrapnel only he’s capable of recognizing. His ragged breaths fill my ear, overwhelm my senses, and shake loose the small hold I had on an additional climax. There’s one sharp squeak followed by profuse quivers throughout my entire system.

  He groans and bites a space on my neck. His teeth vibrate against my flesh with every word, “You’re all mine, Meena…”

  I vanquish the article from mouth and repeat, “Si. All yours, Holden.”

  The prompted words are just the tip over he needed. Holden’s dick instantly goes rigid and the hold on my neck chokes the remaining breath from me. Scorching, powerful wetness flows deep inside of me, melding not only our orgasms together, but our vitality.

  It feels this way, every. Time.

  Holden’s body sags against mine and my fingers sweetly stroke his arms. “Te amo…”

  There’s no hesitation in his body moving for our eyes to meet or in his response, “I love you too.”

  We sweetly lock lips and any questions in my mind from earlier are washed away.

  Our groove is working just the way it is. We’ll keep figuring everything out together.

  He pulls away on a soft hum. “I need to get going…”

  “Shouldn’t you rinse off? You smell like sex.”

  “I smell like you.” Holden winks, removes himself completely, and tucks his dick back into his suit pants. Afterward he firmly commands, “And when I get back between those thighs tonight, I wanna know you still feel like me.”

  His naughty need is granted a smile.

  “Got it?”

  “Eres agresivo.”

  He chuckles and straightens his tie. “When it comes to you baby, you don’t even know the half of it.”

  I try not to blush at the compliment.

  Holden runs his hand down his tie and another light laugh escapes. “I can literally feel your teeth marks in this.”

  “Change!”

  “Not a chance in hell.” He delivers a soft peck. “I’m gonna go kiss the kids goodbye. Hopefully they don’t wake up from it.”

  Surprise paints my expression. “They’re still asleep?”

  “Yeah, can you believe it?”

  I bounce my head back and forth. “Sort of. They’re both in a growth spurt. Means extra emotions, extra eating, and almost always extra sleeping.”

  He tries not to grumble. “How much more are they gonna grow? We just went shopping last weekend.”

  “Which is why we bought a couple sizes bigger.” My reassurance is met with an eye roll. “Go kiss them goodbye, and I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Promise to take lots of photos?”

  “And video.”

  Satisfied, he slips back out of the bathroom leaving me covered in his bites, bruises, and cum, but nothing else.

  Today’s going to be a good day. I just know it.

  “Stop it!” Lynk snaps.

  “You stop it!” Sage shouts back.

  Completely frustrated, I turn around to face them in the back seat and snip, “Both of you. Stop it. Now.”

  Lynk grunts and looks out the window while Sage shoves her bottom lip out, threatening to cry.

  And this is probably what I hate most about holidays or holiday related events. It never fails to turn even the most well-behaved children into assholes. After four hours filled with pictures, sugar, games, and even a fake snowball fight, I decided it was time to be done despite the fact neither were ready. This one decision took them from being adorable angels to pissed off heathens before they buckled their seat belts. Apparently, I’m the villain for having had enough of hearing children scream or be ignored by their parents who wanted to take the time to just sit around and gossip.

  My phone beeps its annoying warning once more about a dying battery.

  Oh, and not to mention my phone is depleted from the ridiculous amount of photos I was taking and sending to Holden and their grandparents. I’ll be lucky if I make it home without it crapping out.

  All of sudden it starts to ring flashing a picture of me and my mother together.

  “I wanna listen to the Glitter Bug song.”

  “I hate that song,” Lynk complains. “We listen to it all the time.”

  “No we don’t!”

  “Yes we do!”

  “No we don’t!”

  “Yes we do!”

  “No we don’t!

  “Yes we do and it’s stupid!”

  “Don’t say stupid,” I scold, preparing to answer the call.

  “It’s not. It’s fun!”

  “It’s dumb.”

  “Lynk. Enough.” Not wanting to miss her call, I rush to answer, “Hello.”

  “Hey!” My mother cheerfully says. “You busy?”

  “Trying to leave the parking lot of the kids’ school.” I wiggle a car charger out of the console. “We just left their Winter Festival.”

  “Where are you headed now?”

  “Home.”

  “Why don’t you stop by?” She suggests at the same time the phone is finally plugged in. “Mario’s home for a visit. He gets a few days off now that basic training is finished.”

  My head hits the back of the seat. “What? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

  “It was a surprise to all of us.” Her prompt answer is followed with, “Everyone’s come over though, and we’re barbequing. Come on by.”

  Holden’s gripe about most likely not coming home until dinner rings in the back of my mind.

  Do I really wanna stay cooped up with two cranky kids who are pissed off because I tore them away from the fun they were having? More importantly, do I really wanna spend the rest of my Saturday locked up inside when I can see my baby brother?

  “Come on,” Mom encourages. “Mya brought the boys. I bet Lynk would love to play with them.”

  Leaning the phone away from my mouth, I ask the grumpy party in the backseat, “Do you two wanna go by my mom’s house for a little bit? They’ve got BBQ and-”

  “Is Marco there?” Lynk interrupts me.

  “Si.”

  “Did he bring his soccer ball?”

  My mother chuckles at the question. “Tell him, we’ve got soccer balls and a goal set up.”

  “If he didn’t bring one, we have to stop and get one. He’s gotta see this new trick I learned.” Lynk rambles without taking a breath. “He’s gonna be so jealous when he sees it.”

  “Is Aunt Mia there?” Sage interjects. “Can she put the sparkles in my hair?”

  “They seem to want to come,” she snickers triumphantly.

  “Yes, and as a responsible adult I let the mood swings on two legs make all the important decisions.”

  Mom laughs again then fusses, “This is not an important decision, Meena. It’
s a couple hours with family and food. When do you ever say no to that?”

  Never.

  My silence is taken as my acceptance. “We will see you in a bit.”

  “Si.”

  “Oh!” She quickly adds. “Would you stop by the store and grab dessert. It seems somehow we have a million pounds of meat, a million and one sides, but nothing sweet besides popsicles for the kids.”