Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

by Luciani, Kristen

  His grin widens. “I can see that. Very much so.”

  Chapter Seven

  JEFF

  I’ve effectively pissed her off, but the lust is still there in her eyes. I can see it beyond the rage. And much as I’d like to act upon it, I can’t. You don’t shit where you eat. Ever. Or else you end up in prison. Or in a ditch. I’d very much like to avoid both.

  Despite what I know, it doesn’t stop me from undressing and mounting her in my mind. I’m gonna let that whole scene play out a few more times until Ollie gets back here with that laptop.

  Her nostrils flare, fists clenching against her sides. Looks like I’ve ignited a fire. Christ, I’d love her to unleash it all over me.

  Ollie returns with his laptop in hand. Too soon for my liking. This next part will be quick, and then I’ll walk out of this office and away from a woman who’s sparked something deep inside me that has been dead for too long…so long, I can’t even remember its last breath.

  Focus is the only thing that will help me right all the wrongs, but Ariana makes it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. Her body is tense, her shoulders squared, lips pursed. I know she wants to kick my ass. But then I’d just pin her to the floor and those legs of hers would be rendered useless against me. And that’s exactly the way I want her, writhing beneath me, screaming for God, while I drive into her pussy. At least, for the first go. After that, I’d take her any which way I can have her.

  Ollie clicks on his Mac keyboard and waves me over. “Okay, give me the IP address of the network.”

  “You’re on a secure connection, right?” Ariana inches toward us. “I don’t want this traced back to us, Ollie. It can’t be.”

  Ollie lets out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

  I hand him a scrap of paper with a set of numbers on it, and his fingers fly over the keys. I peer at the black screen rapidly filling with white type. I have no idea what the fuck it all means, but Ollie does, and that’s what matters.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ariana chewing on her finger. She’s nervous, but there really isn’t anything I can do about that. This type of mission always results in unanticipated casualties, and much as I try to minimize them, some things are beyond my tight control. Walking away has never been an issue before, but for the first time, it bothers me. And I don’t like that one fucking bit. Using her like this, invading her office with bullshit stories of sex rings, all because it’s part of my grand plan to steal from the asshole who pretty much cleaned me out. It’s wrong, but now isn’t the time to be justifying my actions.

  I allow my eyes to drift over her curves again, trying to commit every detail to memory, imagining what lies beneath the fabric. It’s something I might have had the opportunity to find out in another life; a realization that gives me pause for one fleeting second, shocking the shit out of me.

  I can’t let emotion compromise my ability to execute this plan. I’ve been there before, and it won’t happen again.

  “I’m in. Just searching through the security feeds. I’ve cracked the encryption code, so I can see everything. Do you have the other IP addresses?”

  I hand him a second piece of paper with a list of numbers, and his fingers again click and clack for the next few seconds. The screen displays a bunch of gibberish, but Ollie navigates it like the pro he is.

  He adjusts his glasses and rakes a hand through his longish hair. I catch the look he throws Ari. She manages a weak smile, but I know she’s flipping the fuck out on the inside.

  Work pauses as their gazes connect – hers reflective of sheer panic, and his…puppy fucking dog adoration. She’s got his dick wrapped around her pinkie, and that look on his face makes my spine stiffen. I rake a hand through my hair and tear my eyes away.

  Just focus on the task at hand. Fuck everything else. Never get in deep.

  I repeat my mantra a few more times until I hear Ollie’s triumphant announcement. “I’m in! Just searching through the feeds for the footage.”

  Ariana walks around the couch next to where Ollie is furiously working the keys, her brow furrowed. Her perfume wafts into the air as she flops onto the cushion. “I don’t understand something. Why would you be erasing evidence if you need it to take down the group that’s involved with this ring?”

  I allow my lips to curl into a smirk. “Nobody’s erasing anything.” Ollie taps the side of the laptop, pointing to a thumb drive. “Ollie is just collecting data so we can track activity on their network. Nothing will go viral without our knowledge, and we’ll crash the network immediately before someone can hit Play on any of those videos.” Ollie truly is the best at what he does - tapping lines, installing triggers. He does flawless work. I knew I made the right decision when I went searching for him.

  “I just don’t understand why you’re not storming the place and arresting them all. Why would you go through all this trouble? Just get a warrant and seize everything.”

  “There’s a very delicate balance of power. If we act too quickly, we risk losing our chance to nail the bastards. These people aren’t stupid. They can re-route everything with a few strokes of a keyboard. That’s why Ollie’s involvement is so critical. We’ll be able to track their every online move. We’re not looking for the quick win here. We’re going to take down their whole virtual empire. You have no idea what these people are capable of doing. They prey on the insecure, the ones with the over-inflated egos, who’ll do just about anything to get to the top and stay there. And once they’ve had a little taste, like our naïve friend Scarlet, they won’t want to do anything that’ll jeopardize their newfound place in this world.”

  “So what do they expect to get from her? Will they try to lure her in again? Is anyone going to jump in to intercede if they do?” Ariana rubs her temples, clearly trying to make sense of everything I’ve said. She should have gone down her original path. By all accounts, she had so much potential for a successful law career. She’d have definitely been a kick ass defense attorney, instead of this bullshit glorified babysitting job, making sure the press thinks everyone’s asses are clean and veins heroin-free.

  “That’s our intention. And plugging into their infrastructure is the surest way to do it. We need eyes and ears on them at all times, so we can act when the time is right. Trust me, there are plenty of sick fucks out there in cyberspace who want to get off with someone like her, and they’ll pay big bucks for the chance to watch someone else plug her up the ass.”

  “What’s next? Just walk away with your little thumb-up-your-ass-drive and wait for the next victim to be assaulted?” Ariana’s fists are clenched. Her fury is so fucking hot. If Ollie wasn’t sitting in between us, I’d be very tempted to tear off that dress, bend her over the pristine white couch, and fuck her long and hard. I can hear the quiver in her voice, even though she’s trying to mask it. Worrying is a waste of her energy, but I can’t exactly tell her that, not without blowing this whole thing wide open.

  “I have all the evidence I need for the time being, now that Ollie’s cracked their network wide open.” I clap a hand on his shoulder. “But there are a lot of formalities, a lot of red tape to cut through. A ring like this has roots that go far and deep. There is already an ongoing investigation, but all details need to be confirmed before we can take action.” The bullshit spews from my lips without thought. Luckily, I have bureaucracy on my side. Everyone knows that the authorities can’t get out of their own way unless all i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed. This is no exception. And now, I have what I need, and it’s untraceable, thanks to Ollie’s tech genius.

  Ollie shuts the lid of his laptop and rises. “Ari, we have everything under control. I updated my web crawler algorithm to include a kill code for any websites that make mention of Scarlet. The program will crash the site and scrub it for any potential damaging words or images. My team will evaluate every instance, and we’ll deal with them on a case-by-case basis. This will not leak, I promise you.” His hand grazes her arm and my throa
t tightens as she glances up at him with a look I wish I were on the receiving end of.

  “Thanks, Ollie. I know you’ll take care of this for us.”

  “Anything for you.” He grins and turns toward me, interrupting the vision of my hands around his neck, squeezing—

  “Jeff, I think you have everything you need now. If you find anything else I can help with, give me a call.”

  I nod, trying to yank my gaze away from Ariana. She regards me with a look that can freeze water in hell. All lust is lost, not that I could have done anything about it, anyway. I’ll just have to rely on the good old highlight reel.

  “Good luck with your investigation.” Her hands are on her hips, and with reluctance, she peels one off and offers it to me. I take it in my own. Such soft skin, but what a monster grip. She’s an aggressive one, that’s for shit sure. I hold it for seconds longer than necessary, unable to break the connection, allowing the zap of electricity to tear through my body. Fuck me. Can she feel that, too?

  “Thanks for your help, Miss Carlson. I appreciate your cooperation.”

  “Tell the agency lining your pockets that if they need something else, not to have one of their agents bust me out of a club. I work much better in an office with a clear head than at a club after sucking down a bottle of Cristal.” The corners of her lips curl upward into a sexy smirk.

  “If that’s an invitation, I can be back in a few—“

  “Please, don’t take it that way.” Her smile widens and she nods toward the door. “Ollie can show you out.”

  Ollie’s lips are stretched into a tight line, his back now stiff. I follow him through the mob of millennials with their laptops sprawled across the sofas in the lobby toward the elevator bank.

  Ding!

  We get onto the elevator and he stabs the ground floor button. He turns to face me, his eyes hard, shielded, and I know he’s pissed. “You can’t just show up here and ask me to take part in your fucking schemes, Jeff. I don’t do that shit anymore.”

  “Look, I know you’re angry that I blindsided you, but I had to be careful. We were part of the same team, remember? I thought that counted for something.”

  He glares at me and folds his arms. “You know I have as much of a bone to pick with that dickhead Trey Conlon as you do.”

  “Have you been sporting a bull’s eye on your ass for the past five years? I think my bone is slightly larger.”

  “Can we stop talking about my ass? And your bone! What are you planning, anyway? I helped you as much as I could, but I can’t do any more than that. I don’t want to get caught in that rattrap again, Jeff. Last time, shit went really bad. I can’t risk that again. I’ve got a good gig here.”

  “Ollie, there was a time when we were all in this together. It’s finally our time to collect. I won’t lie, there’s some bad blood with the others since you broke away from the group and went off on your own. But I convinced everyone you’re still our guy. Was I right? Are you?”

  Chapter Eight

  ARIANA

  I bite the cap of a blue ink Bic pen as I wait at a traffic light a few hours later. It’s old school, the clear plastic ones my grandmother used a million years ago when doing the New York Times crossword puzzle. Yes, she was that good. They’re the only ones I write with, and it’s just one of the many things I picked up from her. A pang in my chest reminds me she won’t be here for the wedding. I say the wedding because there’s no chance in hell there will be one after Eva’s. Not with my track record, and I’m certain Grandma would not approve of that conscious thought. But reality is harsh. It’s why she’s not here right now, and why marriage isn’t even a remote thought in my mind.

  I’m waiting for you! Are you on your way?

  My phone pings with a text from Eva. My sister. The bride-to-be. Bridezilla, to be more exact. She only got the rock a few days ago, but this planning thing is in full swing. And Christ, if I have to look at one more bridesmaid dress picture, I’m going to start my assault on chocolate. If I gain enough weight, she’ll never keep me in the bridal party. Everything has to be just so - all the girls need to at max be a size 6, hair all has to be worn in an up-do, everyone needs matching manis and pedis. I know I’m a control freak, but really, this is taking things to an extreme, foreign even to me.

  But she’s the baby, and she always gets what she wants with a mere wink and a smile. I adore her, as does her fiancé Damon, and even though she’s driving me off a cliff, I’ll do anything to make this the happiest day of her life.

  She, unlike me, doesn’t carry her baggage. It’s all unpacked, unfolded, laundered, and put away neatly in the walk-in closet of her heart. It’s why she found an amazing guy and fell in love with him, and why she is so excited to become his wife. Good for her. In lieu of all the therapy it took her to get to this point, they could have put a nice down payment on a house in Calabasas Hills.

  I ease up on the gas and swing my car into a parking spot on Robertson Boulevard, a block away from the bridal boutique. I’m kind of amazed she found a new one we hadn’t actually visited since she started sporting that ring…only days earlier. I grab a tall clear plastic cup from Teavana from the holder and slide out of the driver’s seat.

  I rub the back of my neck and yawn. The crick has only intensified, and the lack of sleep isn’t helping. I need to dive into my bed and doze off for a few hours, dreaming of Jeff Whatever The Hell His Last Name Is, but duty calls. A shiver runs down my spine, despite the heat of the late morning sun. This whole run-in has my head spinning in too many directions to count, but that’s why I have Ollie. He’s the brains behind this whole operation, and I take care of the execution. Our arrangement is anything but traditional, but it’s been this way for years. And nobody gets inside; nobody, not even that god-like specimen of a man, will jeopardize our plans.

  My heels click on the concrete as I walk toward the bridal salon, but as much as I try to erase the images of him naked on my bed, they still haunt me in glaring detail. Dammit. I grit my teeth, suck in a deep breath, and pull open the door. Chimes ring as I step inside the boutique. A middle-aged saleswoman dressed from head to bright red polished toe, who is donning a blush-colored Chanel suit, saunters over to me. “You must be Ariana. Your sister is waiting in the back. Would you like some champagne, or are you good with…” Her nose scrunches the slightest bit. “…that?”

  I flash a tight smile. It’s going to be one of those shopping experiences. “Yes, thank you, and no. I’m good with this.” I hurry into the back of the boutique and let out a little gasp as Eva sails out of the fitting area in a puff of white tulle and silk, a long, ornately beaded white train trailing behind her.

  “E, you look un-fucking-believable!” I squeal and gather her into my arms. She’s all bright and bleached-white blinding smiles until she pulls back with a critical eye. “Dirty skank,” she hisses. “You didn’t go home last night, did you?”

  “Ew! Why would you say that?” I recoil, even though she’s one hundred and fifty percent right.

  “You smell like guy’s cologne.” Her lips curl upward. “It’s yummy. Was he?”

  Ugh. I should have spritzed myself, but I figured the powerful scent of that jackass at the club would have faded by now. “No, regrettably not.” I run a hand through my hair. “And just an fyi, he tried climbing me at the afterparty, but I shook him off my branches. He didn’t try again. And even though I haven’t showered, I didn’t unlock my chastity belt.”

  I grin as she rolls her eyes. “I would have preferred it if you’d told me you had hot, sweaty, nasty sex all night long with some random stranger. How long has it been?”

  I sigh and take a long drag from the straw. “Long enough where I’m probably going to need to re-stock my fancy underwear drawer.” Her eyes pop open wide, making me giggle. “Relax. I’m kidding. I think I still have a few G-stings left over from college.” I’m lying, of course, but the look on her face is worth a million bucks.

  “Ari, do we need to make a pit
stop at La Perla today?” She peeks behind me and swats my ass. “Let’s see. No panty lines, whore. So either you’re going commando, or you like giving me heart palpitations for kicks.”

  “E, since when is my lingerie drawer your big concern? Shouldn’t you be focused on wedding cake flavors? Or the shade of pink you want for your French manicure? Or the kind of potpourri you need in the bathrooms at the reception?”

  She purses her lips and twirls away from me, heading straight toward the cocktail table holding a single crystal flute of champagne. It’s at her lips within a millisecond, and she regards me with a critical eye as she guzzles the bubbly liquid. “I know I’m being a little crazy about the wedding. I think I’m overcompensating. I just want everything to be perfect.”

  “He’s already getting perfection, sweetie.” I graze her arm. “The perceived success of the day isn’t going to impact the success of your marriage. You know that.”

  Eva nods, a tendril of blonde hair falling over her eye. I can see the wistful look, and it makes my stomach clench. “Yeah, I just thought…I don’t know.” She flops into a plush leather chair, the glass still firmly in her grip. “Starting off with a good bang can’t be a bad thing, right?”

  I kneel in front of her. “There’s only one bang you need to be concerned with, and it has nothing to do with a popcorn and cotton candy cart at the Vienese hour.”

  “That I can handle. My undergarments aren’t the ones in question.” She giggles.

  “Eva, Damon is crazy about you. He lights you up, and worships the ground you walk on. Your marriage will be perfect because of the love you have for each other. This other crap isn’t going to convince him you’re the woman for him because he already knows it.” I sit back on my heels. “Perfection is overrated. Just be real and true to yourself and to Damon. That’s my best advice for you. Forget the other bullshit. None of it matters. When you wake up the morning after, you’ll have a clear path toward your future laid out in front of you, and I guarantee it won’t be cluttered with table centerpieces, rose petals, or cake toppers.”