Craving Justice (Sons of Sydney Book 1)

by Fiona Archer

  “Oh, God,” she gasped. Her fingernails sunk into his flesh as he stretched her with a satisfying burn. She’d wondered before at the thickness of his cock and now had a new appreciation for every inch of him.

  He kept himself still, giving her body a chance to adjust to his size. “Fuck you’re tight, Harper. Beautiful, wet and tight.” Slowly, he pumped with his hips, each advance quicker, deeper. “Eyes on me,” Seth ordered.

  Her gaze flew to his face. His jaw seemed even more shadowed with stubble in the bedroom’s low light. She liked that hint of roughness, the untamed beast.

  Gliding her hands lower, she squeezed his rock-hard ass, smiling at his sexy growl. “I’m allowed to touch though, right?”

  “Absolutely, luv.” His rough voice proved her point. Seth twisted his hips, making his cock stroke the walls of her channel. A fresh tremor engulfed her. “We do this together, beautiful.” His hand reached into her hair, holding her head still as he captured her mouth with a hungry urgency.

  Yes, together.

  Her tongue swept his mouth. She loved the firm pressure of his lips, the way he moved his head to match hers. She lifted her hips, accepting all that he gave her.

  Seth increased the tempo, plunging harder, faster, feeding her craving that grew more desperate with each driving thrust. Harper squeezed her thighs at his waist, trying to get closer, offering all to him.

  “That’s it. Hang on.”

  As if she’d let him go. “Right,” She broke off as a shudder ran through her body, taking her breath away. “H-here.” Lifting her head, she bit into his shoulder. The salty tang of his skin filled her mouth as she staked her claim.

  Her body gathered, drawing tight in her core. He held her right on the edge as everything—the room, noise, taste—all blanked out but for his cock deep inside her and his piercing blue gaze holding hers captive.

  He pulled out, leaving just an inch of him inside. A smile played on his mouth as she cursed then, with one brutal lunge, he filled her.

  “Oh, God.” She cried out against his shoulder, overwhelmed by a frenzied explosion of bliss. Her mind went brilliant as pleasure filled every nerve in her body. The muscles in her hot center clenched with rolling spasms that only grew stronger. She was drowning in an overload of sensation as she felt the movement of his body—his chest against hers, his pelvis rubbing against her clit—each action adding another layer.

  His face was a hard mask of concentration, as if he was fighting against himself. “Fuck.” He bit the word out. His body stiffened before shuddering with his release. Each twitch of his cock sent more ripples along her inner walls as she gasped for breath. Only then did she feel the heaving of his chest as he dragged air into his lungs.

  Seth pressed his forehead into the pillow while she let her legs fall from around him to lay limp on the bed. No point moving. For now, she’d concentrate on finding her voice.

  Whatever she had planned to say turned into a whimper as he withdrew from her warmth. He kissed her softly, running a thumb over her heated cheek. “Let me take care of the essentials, sweetness, then I’ll see to you.”

  That sounded nice. “Bathroom’s next door.” She gave a weak smile, and let her hand slide down his back as he rose from above her and left the bed, giving her a glorious view of his naked behind as he walked out the door.

  And truth be told, she’d like to see a view of his backside again—bare assed or covered by pants. Maybe she’d joke about that thought with him sometime later.

  Her gaze widened. Such a wayward musing focused her mind. Later? Well, yeah. She liked Seth. Of course she wanted a ‘later’ with him.

  She sank her teeth into her lower lip. Should she simply come out and say that to him? He was a direct kind of guy, so that seemed the best option. But maybe five minutes after sex wasn’t the right timing.

  “Someone’s deep in thought.” Seth, naked and obviously uncaring of that fact, lounged against the doorway, a washcloth in his hand. “What’s on your mind, coffee girl?” He pushed away from the frame, and sat beside her on the bed. With a gentle touch, he lifted one leg wide and softly wiped her pussy with the warm cloth. Heat filled her cheeks. Yes, they’d just had sex, but still, such…intimate attention was new to her.

  “I want to see you again,” she blurted out. Christ, so much for picking her moments. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just, you know, put you on the spot after we’ve done the dance of sexy love.” She cringed. Far out, now she’d said the L word. “What I mean is—”

  Seth chuckled and held up a hand. “Let me save you from yourself.” His eyes shone as his mouth stretched into a smile. “I’d like to see you, too, Harper. You just beat me to the words.” He dropped the washcloth on the floor and stretched out beside her as he dragged the comforter over them before pulling her into his arms. “Apart from the fact you’re intelligent, got a great sense of humor, and watching you choose what to eat is downright hilarious, there’s other stuff about you I want to discover.”

  She craned her head back from where it lay on his chest to look up at him. “Oh, yeah?”

  “For one, you’ve got a menu with seven dishes that’s apparently so bloody fantastic customers don’t ask for anything else.”

  “Well,” she hedged, “I never said they didn’t ask for substitutes. It’s just that they aren’t offered.”

  “Changing the script already, huh?” Seth leaned over her, way over so that his face filled her view. He had that gleam in his eyes again, which could mean a host of things, all good. “Just what else have you misled me with, woman?”

  She made a dismissive sound in her throat. “Not a damn thing, handsome.”

  He raised his brow at the name.

  “I’m trying it out. We’ll see if the name sticks.”

  His lips twitched. “I look forward to hearing what else you come up with. In the meantime, you still have a promise outstanding.”

  She did? “What’s that?”

  “Your assertion that chocolate cake tastes even better in bed.”

  Warmth hit her belly. “That’s true. I should get right on that, huh?”

  “Definitely. I plan on testing that theory rigorously.” He traced a finger over her lips to curl under her chin. “With chocolate cake, there’s so many ways you can end up dirty.”

  She swallowed. “I, uh, can imagine.” Various ideas flashed in her mind, some holding more merit than others. “How, uh, long can you stay?”

  He sighed. “I’ve got an hour, sweetness. Tomorrow’s a huge day for my company, and I still have some work I need to finalize before I can call it a night.” That confident grin of his reappeared. “But you’ll find I’m excellent at making the most of every opportunity. So bring me cake, woman.”

  Harper reached for her silk robe beside the bed. The purple garment, embroidered with white orchids, was a gift from her sister last Christmas. She loved the smoothness of the plush material against her skin. There was something wildly decadent and sexy about it.

  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. After nine. Today had been huge for Seth, and if he still had work then maybe…“You know, the cake can wait for another time if you need to get stuff done.”

  “Harper,” Seth’s deeply masculine voice kept her feet locked in place. “If I wanted to leave, I’d offer a polite excuse and go.” He sat up, letting the comforter fall to his waist, providing her a gorgeous view of those rock-hard abs she’d admired—and touched—earlier. “There’s a hell of a lot I still want to explore with you. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another night, but right now, I want cake.”

  She couldn’t help herself. “More to explore? Like what?” Seriously, given tonight’s adventures the man could ruin her for all time.

  His direct stare was her only warning. “We could start with tying you to the bed.”

  Her belly dropped.

  Oh, yeah. Totally freaking ruin her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  At eight o’clock the
next morning Seth stepped out of the elevator and walked up to the shiny white reception desk of Shazad. “Morning, Megan. Which Star Trek episode did you watch last night? I assume they kicked Klingon arse.”

  The blue-haired geek dropped her gaze back to her computer. “Just something old.” Her voice came out as a mumble.

  Where was her normal teasing remark bemoaning his lack of Trekkie allegiance?

  “Aren’t they all old to some degree?” He paused in collecting his pile of mail as she still didn’t meet his gaze.

  When the phone rang, she answered with more urgency than he would have thought was required.

  Shrugging, he continued past the birch panel that screened the foyer from the office behind. Desks overflowed with multiple screens and gadgets the staff used to help their creative juices flow best along with an alarming number of empty energy drink bottles. Comparing this space now to the empty shell it had been when he and Dillon had first moved in with two desks and a phone, Seth couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. Man, they’d come a long way. And soon he’d be letting it all go.

  Seth ignored the sudden pang of loss and scanned the room, noting around fifteen employees working about the place. All clocked his entry. None acknowledged him. Not by word, gesture. Nothing.

  What the hell?

  Were they upset by something in yesterday’s announcement? Their employment was guaranteed, and the sale had been discussed at length with staff earlier in the week. The announcement was no surprise. What else could be up?

  He searched the room, determined to get answers. A blond head popped up and caught Seth’s stare before ducking back down. Jonas O’Brien. Perfect target. The young programmer had been with Seth from the beginning and practically hero-worshiped Seth. Best part, he wouldn’t lie to save himself.

  Seth was two steps from his prey when the door to Dillon’s office burst open.

  “I fucking know that. I’m not an idiot,” Dillon yelled, his face turned back to someone in the room as he walked out. When he glanced toward the main office, he caught sight of Seth. With hands clenched by his sides, Shazad’s Vice President seemed to catch himself. “Perhaps you can join us, Seth?” Not waiting for a reply, he stormed back inside.

  Ignoring the now blatant stares of the staff, Seth walked into Dillon’s office, coming to a standstill when he saw two more of his brothers in the room.

  “Guys, what’s going on?”

  Dillon volleyed back what clearly sounded like an accusation. “I’ve tried calling you for the last hour.”

  “I had the phone turned off this morning. Wanted quiet time as I went through everything we need to finalize today.” He’d been running on vapor for the last week; a few hours of solitude had been a luxury. And the peace and quiet of this morning’s drive in allowed him a chance to savor the memory of last night with Harper. In fact, he’d planned on ringing her this morning, eager to hear the sound of her laughter with its throaty mix of sexy and sweet. So the sooner he sorted whatever had his brothers in such a bad mood, the better.

  Heath, with hands on hips, paced back and forth in front of the windows looking out on downtown Seattle. Dressed in jeans and a charcoal gray shirt, the cop wore a scowl as thunderous as the rolling clouds forming over Puget Sound.

  By contrast, Zach, his long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing the usual black jeans, T-shirt, and motorcycle boots, lounged in one of the leather chairs in front of Dillon’s desk. His fingers formed a steeple on his chest, his chin resting on the top. The bearded biker had his eyes on Seth but remained silent.

  Heath ceased pacing and focused his glare on his younger sibling. “Bloody hell, Seth. What the fuck’s going on?”

  Seth raised his brows. “You want to give me an idea of what’s crawled up your arse, Detective, or do I have to guess? As far as I know, you should be thanking me.” Hadn’t his actions yesterday made them all a fortune? And where was this anger during their quick call last night?

  Heath’s jaw dropped. “You want praise?”

  Seth slid his leather satchel off his shoulder and onto his desk and jammed his hands on his hips. “I’m guessing that’s too much to ask for?” Had they all grown apart that much?

  “Enough,” Zach’s low voice rumbled as the third eldest, behind Dillon and Adam, stood to his full height, an inch taller than Seth’s six foot two, and fixed his hazel gaze on Seth. “Mate, those posts”—he shook his head slowly, barely moving the brown ponytail that fell down his back—“not cool.”

  “What posts?” He turned to study all three men. Dillon sighed. Heath glared. But Zach’s gaze flickered with surprise.

  “The ones about screwing the bastards—and about Heath’s job.” Dillon rolled his eyes at Seth’s blank look and held out his phone. “Here, see for yourself. That’s your Facebook account, right?”

  Seth glanced at the screen, saw his name in the familiar Facebook font, but the profile picture showed a snapshot of a Pacman in a maze with ghosts, not his normal picture of Maximus, from the movie Gladiator.

  He turned his head slightly toward Dillon as he began to read the post. “That’s not my—”

  Met with Brock-Porter Digital. Sold them my company. Screwed the bastards for 50 mil. Who says you can’t enjoy yourself with your pants zipped?

  Seth froze. He went to breathe but his lungs wouldn’t expand, as if tight bands of steel held them cramped tight. “What?” he whispered. Around him the world melted away, dissolving under the acid of the post’s poisonous message.

  He glanced at the time stamp of the post. Forty minutes ago, 7:20 a.m. local time. Seth had been in his car, thinking about Harper and chocolate cake, when some fucker had ignited a cyber-bomb in Seth’s corporate stronghold.

  But this was Facebook. He could limit the damage. All he needed to do—

  His gaze dropped to the small blue font under the post.

  30 shares. 120 likes.

  Seth clicked, opening up a new page. Sweet Jesus. Posted to tech news pages, tech journalists, and the personal accounts of business friends. All via what looked like his profile.

  If Stanton Fox ever saw this post, the repercussions could prove disastrous—no, make that fatal—to their deal.

  Lifting his head, he stared at Dillon. “I didn’t do this.”

  Dillon worked his jaw, flexing it left and right with a stiffness that mirrored lockjaw. “That’s just the start.” He moved over to the bank of computers on Dillon’s sleek, black desk. “I logged into our servers. These posts didn’t originate in this office. Look at this.” Dillon stepped to the side as Seth joined him.

  Seth’s Facebook account filled one large screen. On top of the post he’d already seen, was another, this one thirty minutes prior, 7:30 a.m. local time. A photo of Heath, taken as he exited police headquarters, accompanied the post.

  Speeding tickets? No worries, mate, when your bro is a cop. Now, let’s get some hookers to celebrate our new 50 mil windfall. #crookedcops #lifeiseasy

  He stared at the screen, seeing the words but unable to factor their existence as real. “This can’t be happening.”

  But it was happening. Even as he spoke, people—his freaking contacts for fuck’s sake—were commenting, some joking, most critical, asking what the hell he was doing.

  His stomach rolled as anger and disgust churned inside him in equal measure.

  He signed Dillon out of the social network and logged in to his account. Deactivated.

  What the fuck?

  The hacker had set up a duplicate of his account and closed down the original?

  A phone beeped. Heath snatched his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Fantastic.” He stared at Seth. “My Captain’s ordered me to his office. No guesses as to why.”

  Before Seth could speak, the phone on Dillon’s desk rang. Its normal business-like tone sliced through the tense atmosphere with the stridency of a fire alarm.

  Dillon snatched up the handset on the third ring. “Yes?” After a few s
econds, he glanced heavenward. “Thanks, Megan. We’ll return the call. Keep screening and taking messages.” He hung up. “Stanton Fox’s secretary just called. Megan took a message. He wants you to phone him in the next five minutes.”

  Seth closed his eyes and tried to gather the thoughts ricocheting in his head. Why was this clusterfuck happening? And who was behind it?

  He straightened up and met Heath’s angry gaze. “Honest to fucking God, you think I’d do this?”

  Heath threw his hands up in the air. “We couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  “And that makes me guilty?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “You know I’m not that fucking stupid. Some bastard’s impersonating me.” His mouth filled with a metallic taste. Swallowing didn’t help clear it away. “I’ll find out what the hell’s going on, and if you need me to talk to your Captain I will, but right now, I have to ring Fox.”

  Heath opened his mouth before snapping it shut. His heavy sigh filled the room. “I was a dickhead, should’ve thought first, got pissed second.” He stabbed a finger at Seth. “But you need to make a crime report. Since this is cybercrime, that’s FBI territory.”

  “If you can get things rolling with the FBI, Heath, that would help. Use me as the family’s point of contact. As for finding answers, Shazad has the resources and expertise to track this breach of security.” Dillon started tapping the screen of his phone. “I’ll get things started personally.”

  “Looks like someone’s out to get you, brother.” Zach moved to stand in front of the desk and folded his arms over his chest, inadvertently showing off the tattoos of childhood memories that snaked up his forearms to disappear under the sleeves of his T-shirt. “One who knows enough about your family to target us, too.”