by Alexa Davis
“I most certainly am. I’ll sneak a peek at what’s going on, and find out for myself if there’s even a real issue with their security. I’ll find the mole. I won’t tell them who it is until I’m out and my digital trail deleted, so no one has to be the wiser about me breaking in.”
“Unless my apartment’s bugged, at which point, we’re both screwed because you told me all of this.”
I laughed and drank my beer, letting the crisp, bitter amber ale slide down my throat. “I’ll check for listening devices after this beer,” I promised, with a laugh.
In reply, she took the beer out of my hand and motioned for me to get to work. “You know what, I’m just going to wander on down to the front desk and ask if any new maintenance people have been up to my apartment since we took my security system off the front door a couple of days ago. You go ahead and look around up here.”
I shrugged and complied. It was too much effort to tell her not to bother, when she had that determined glint in her eyes.
The apartment was clean, as much as I could tell looking by hand. Building management told C.J. that no one had been to her apartment with their permission, but at her request, they promised to call her if anyone so much as asked about her at the front desk. It sounded like they were used to those kinds of demands, and it made me wonder what other celebrities and influencers I might bump into in the elevator.
“It’s scary, isn’t it?” she asked me while she watched me checking the light fixtures. She followed me into her sound booth, where I took apart her computer towers and checked her sound equipment.
“Scary and a frustratingly futile,” I admitted as I finished up my search in the dressing room portion of her “office.” “There’s always the chance that they if I stepped over the line, they’d decide I was worth spending the time and money on for real surveillance, using my own technology against me. We live in a time when people can sit in a van and train a long-rang microphone on your house, and hear everything you say. When they can mirror your cell phone and see everything you do, and they don’t have to tell you they’re watching you, or invading your privacy.”
“Huh. And they say that you’re a bad guy for using that technology to help people.”
I pulled her into my lap and she laid against my chest. “We’re surrounded by technology that lets us peek into the most private corners of people’s lives, any given minute of the day. It is too much power to trust that it won’t be abused. But, who’s to say the people with the power are the ones who are righteous enough to use it properly?” I kissed her temple and she sighed.
“I don’t know enough about computers to ever tap into that kind of control over others. I just play video games for hours, and work out for hours, so I don’t look like I play video games all day,” she grumbled.
I slid my hand down the front of her tank top and palmed one smooth breast, making her gasp as I ran my thumb over the soft skin around her nipple. It puckered and hardened in my hand, and I felt things low in my body do the same in answer.
“God, you are amazing to touch,” I whispered into her hair, as she shifted in my arms to give me access to more of her. “Way more fun than video games.” She tilted her head back and kissed my neck, and rubbed her butt up against me. She hummed her pleasure as I slid the tank top up and ran my hands over the smooth skin of her stomach and back up over both breasts. She pressed one hand harder against her, and I watched as she slid her other hand down the front of her little shorts, rubbing her mound under the thin fabric.
I pulled her ear between my teeth and gently bit as I watched her hand work under the shorts, mesmerized by the way her hips bucked as she rubbed her ass over my erection. I picked her up and turned her and she straddled me. We laid on the bed in that position and she fell over me, with her hands on either side of my head, rocking her hips and rubbing herself on me. I yanked the tank top over her arms and head and she pulled it off and tossed it to one side, never breaking her rhythm as she ground herself on me.
My erection was so full and hard that I stuck out of the waist band of my basketball shorts, and I desperately tried to slide her off me to get rid of the damnable material that kept me from being inside her, but she laughed and clung to me with her legs as I tried to buck her off.
With a growl, I flipped us both and dropped her on her back, hard enough that she bounced on the mattress and her eyes widened. I tore at her shorts, yanking them down her legs and off before shoving her knees apart and diving between her legs, attacking her with my tongue and teeth until she screamed my name and came with a rush of hot fluid on my mouth and chin.
She collapsed on the bed, limbs liquid, breathing in short pants as she trembled and clutched at me with her fingertips. I licked her clean while her moans made my cock jump and throb, and I wiped my face with the mangled little shorts I’d finally managed to rip off her body. I stood next to the bed, and she reached for me, her arm still trembling and weak from the orgasm I’d wrenched from her sweet cleft with my tongue.
I watched her face as I pulled my shorts down and let them fall to the floor, freeing my erection. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips and swallowed hard, her breasts bouncing with each trembling breath. Her hand was still open, lying on the edge of the bed, and I moved in close enough for her to touch me. Her long, slender fingers closed around me and she ran her thumb over the head in the ghost of a touch that made my pulse jump and my mouth go dry. She tugged gently, drawing me to her without words, and I knelt over her with my knees between hers. She released me and reached up to embrace me, and I pulled her up to a sitting position kissing her full, soft lips and pressing every inch of her body tight against mine.
We turned as one, so that I was sitting on the bed, with her in my lap. I held her hair back from her face and delved into her sweet mouth with my tongue, until she moaned her pleasure into me. She lifted her hips and slid onto me with a smooth, velvet motion that made my hips thrust automatically in response. She rocked in my lap, her arms around my body, and kissed me while I threaded my fingers through her hair and held her. When I finally pulled away, the soft light of dusk shining in through the window lit on her bare skin and made it glow. She threw her head back and increased the tempo, and I gave over to her lead.
Her ankles were locked behind my back, and as she crested the wave of her orgasm, she squeezed me so tight it pulled a laugh from my throat. I lifted us up and bent over so she was under me, and took over thrusting hard and deep as she clung to my shoulders and stayed wrapped around me, holding me inside her until long after I had come and was lying on top of her, kissing her neck between heavy, panting breaths. I rolled to the side, so only one of her legs was pinned, and she played with my hair while I rested my head on her breasts.
“It’s nice that you’re so tall. Thanks for that,” I muttered while she giggled, jiggling her soft milky breasts against my cheek. I rubbed her with my stubble and she shrieked, which only made them bounce more, to my pleasure. “Perfect breasts, too. Good job getting those right.” She scoffed, and I continued. “Those long legs of yours are just about the exact right length for the best sex, too. Even better than when they reach all the way down from those tiny skirts you like to wear.
“Mmm,” she sighed. “I appreciate your approval. Do you think you’ll still like me a couple of weeks from now?” Her voice was softly matter-of fact, but I felt fear along the words like a razor’s edge. She played down my shoulder with her fingers while she waited for my reply, tension singing through her muscles.
“I don’t always like you now,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood. For my efforts, she pinched me hard, leaving a red half-moon welt where her fingernails bit into my skin. “I don’t know what you want me to say. That I think I’m falling in love with you? That I might have been in love with you before I even came out to see you? What do I have to do to show you I’m serious about being here with you?” She disentangled herself from me and turned away, hugging the edge of the bed like a life raft, while I floundered in
the middle of the bed alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Carina
I was an idiot for saying anything, and as usual had ruined a good moment by asking for what no man was ever willing to give me. Jackson had told me he loved me, possibly, but the way he’d spat the words out like they had to be wrenched out of him made me feel worse than ever.
I moved as far away from him as I could and gave him the space I was sure he needed after my clinging to him like a high school stalker. If only he understood what it had been like, being harassed and assaulted on every side by men and boys alike who saw me as some sort of orgasm-producing object, only worth having if I was sexy or silent. God forbid I break wind or eat a meal that consisted of something other than lettuce.
For years, I was the “playmate girlfriend” or the “model” to the men I slept with. I was a fucking check mark on somebody’s bucket list that had nothing to do with how I felt, or what I deserved. Jackson liked the gamer. He seemed ready to compete with the beer-drinker, and he seemed to love the cosplayer most of all. What he liked best about me, were the parts that had narrowed my world to a few trusted fellow-geeks when Donatella, Dior, and Victoria’s Secret had turned their backs on me.
I rolled over and watched him, lying on his back with his eyes closed, Stiles perched on his stomach demanding attention. I poked at the cat until he glared balefully at me and sulked off to wait by his food bowl in the kitchen.
“I wonder where he learned to be such a damned attention whore,” I scoffed.
Jackson let out a startled laugh and opened an eye to peer at me. “I can’t imagine. He drawled. His eye closed, and we laid there, side by side, as the sky darkened, lengthening the shadows that fell across the bed.
“Are you hungry?” I inched closer. My heart was breaking itself against my ribcage, threatening to escape with every beat. I reached out and touched his shoulder, and he placed his hand over mine. I stiffened, waited for him to push me away, but he simply held my hand against his skin until his shoulder was warm from my touch.
“Are any of the groceries you bought still good, do you think?”
I considered the items I’d purchased days ago, with the intention of giving him a home-cooked meal. “The meat might be good, but I have stuff in the freezer too.” I replied. “Are you ready to try my cooking?”
“I just want to stay away from other people for the night. Just me and you, before I walk into the storm, and you get back to your lucrative business playing video games while men make spank-bank deposits as they watch you.”
“That is so gross. I’m totally going to use it. You’ve been warned.” I snuggled in to his side. “Which reminds me, I get a lot of emails from men, including wealthy, important, business-types, asking me to go away with them, sometimes asking for naked pictures…” He flinched, but didn’t respond. “I hope you understand that I finally have the opportunity to respond the way I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to be taking a lot of pictures of your naked ass.”
“Oh God, I did not think that was going to be the next sentence out of your mouth.” Jackson snorted. His eyes were still closed, but his arm opened out to the side and made room for my head on his shoulder. Stiles let out a petulant cry of hunger from the kitchen, followed by a metallic crash that made us both jump. “Stiles is hungry.”
I nodded, rubbing my cheek against his chest. “He’ll survive an extra five minutes on the five pounds of fat stores he’s built up. What about you? Are you hungry?”
He held me tighter, but didn’t answer for a few minutes. Normally, I would’ve loved the time in his arms, but my legs were itchy and tingling with the need to move, and my skin was tight and achy. I leaped up from bed and filled Stiles’ food bowl, then started pacing the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for a late dinner or snack.
I was halfway through cleaning out my fridge, tossing meat products I couldn’t say for sure were still safe to eat, when I looked for Jackson and found only Stiles on the bed, bathing himself happily in the wake of the extra salmon I’d given him to shut him up.
A glance at the clock made me pick up the pace, and I sliced the steaks I’d purchased, and cut vegetables and set them aside while oil heated on the stove. After quick-frying the steak, I added the celery, cabbage, mushrooms, and bamboo shoots. I didn’t even look up from my work until I was plating the stir-fry over noodles and adding teriyaki glaze to the mess. As I moved to pour the glaze, a large, masculine hand invaded my view, covering the plate.
“Oh, shit!” I cursed as I jumped. “Jesus H-Christ, Jackson, you scared the heck out of me.” I set the bottle down on the counter and pressed a hand to my heart, while I glared at his grinning face.
“I really am sorry,” he chuckled, trying to cover his laugh with a cough. “I did a quick check of your computer, email, applications, and even your streaming software, to look for flags that I’d accidentally dragged you into my past indiscretions.” He smiled ruefully at me, and standing there in his boxer briefs, he looked like he was the vulnerable one, for once.
“Find anything?” I handed him the plate devoid of sugary, caramel-colored teriyaki goodness and leaned against the counter while I picked at my own food.
“No, but I knew you’d feel better if you knew that I’d taken the time to look.”
“Well, you just got here, can’t have you going off to federal prison before I get what I want out of you,” I teased, and he groaned in reply.
“Every time I even think the words, ‘federal prison’ or ‘FBI’, my stomach clenches and I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the gut.”
I twisted the top off and slid a beer across the counter to him, taking his empty and tossing it the trash. “Sorry, Hun,” I tried not to smile. “Will this job make you famous?”
He shook his head. “Well, that wouldn’t be good for business, would it? I mean, how do we make a name for ourselves without getting treated like the enemy by the suits? I’ve only ever done this in the dark, never out where the world could see me.” He took a swig of beer and watched me clean up the mess I’d made.
“You stream it.” He coughed on his beer. “I’m serious,” I continued. “You don’t have to show how you’re doing what you do, but you stream while you work. You talk about the pitfalls of different security measures, talk about how to find cheaters in games. You could be working for money, and getting donations from an audience at the same time.”
“You think I could be a successful streamer.”
“I think you have a niche to exploit. Use games to show your viewers the back doors you’re always talking about.” I looked him dead in the eye. “I hear about back doors all the time, explicitly, when my fans tell me what they imagine me doing to them when they shut off their computers.”
“Yeah, if you’re lucky they wait that long.”
“Okay, Jackson, there is a limit to the level of gross I can allow my brain to process.” He laughed and I leaned over the counter, putting my nose inches from his and staring him in the eye. “That was over my limit.”
“So, back to business,” he suggested, clearing his throat, “in a gaming stream, you’re saying I should show guys how to figure out if they’re being phished, backtrack anonymous trolls, basically give the power of hackers to anybody willing to tune in, in layman’s terms.”
“God, I’m a genius.”
“Yeah, yeah, you are, Sugar,” he chuckled. “I’ll be the Julian Assange of the gaming world.” He arched an eyebrow at me and I danced on my toes, doing a mini pirouette behind the counter.
“Hmmm, the WikiLeaks of gaming. That would make a great thesis.”
He stared at me like I’d grown a third eye. “What?” He swung around the counter and grabbed me before I could run, and wrapping his arms around me, dipped me back and kissed me hard on the mouth.
“Where did you come from, and what did I do to deserve you?”
Chapter Thirty
Jackson
C.J. started talking about what I kne
w how to do and how to make something I loved work for me, and it was like I’d been sitting in the dark and she’d walked in and turned on all the lights. She turned on Green Day and pranced around the kitchen while I sat down and started on my next beer.
Stiles wound himself between my legs and I wondered how he’d react to a nice, calm hound dog in the apartment. After all, if I was transplanting Texas to LA, and bringing country to computer video entertainment, I should have a dog. Especially one that would be as unique, and as much an oddity here, as I was. Then again, trying to guess C.J.’s next mood was as pointless as a weather forecast.
I pulled out my phone and started a list of what I’d need to stream properly. I looked around the apartment. There was no way she and I could expand the sound booth. Not without taking all her costume supplies out of there. I didn’t see her agreeing to that. I totaled the cost of a new setup. It would be a chunk of my savings I hadn’t wanted to part with, and I had nowhere to set it up, even if I bought it all.
I dialed my phone and sighed, listening to it ring. If I was lucky, he wouldn’t pick up and I could leave a very brief message. I figured, long as I wasn’t asking for money or a ride home, Daniel would be happy to help me out. Fortunately, my big brother wasn’t much for answering his phone at the best of times, let alone when he and his pretty wife would be out by the fire, cold beers in the cooler, and Pete on his guitar. I felt a surge of homesickness and hung up without leaving a message. If called back, I’d have him send me my computers and monitors.
“You know, right now back home, my whole family and half the ranch hands are drinking cheap beer around the fire pit, and Patty’s probably roasting marshmallows,” I called out to C.J. I checked my watch and added, “Pete and Verica just left to go have loud sex and go to their respective cabins, so everyone can pretend they haven’t got past second base yet.”
“In Texas, they still use the baseball system?”