The Abduction: MFM Menage Alien Romance

by Nichole Allen

  “Are these your only bank accounts or have any personal accounts been attacked?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and opens his personal account on his phone. “No, everything here looks fine. I’ve opened it on my computer before so I don’t know why it would be unaffected, I guess.”

  “And who told you about these changes?”

  He looks up from his phone and sets it in his desk drawer so he can focus on the business accounts for now. “It was originally my secretary, John. But when I brought it up with my accountant, Jack, he said he’d take care of it.”

  “You might want to consider getting a new accountant because he didn’t do a very good job at that.” I hear Chase’s quiet laugh behind me followed by the buzz of his phone on the desk.

  I’m still clicking back and forth between his bank accounts trying to trace the accounts the money was transferred to with no luck. It’s hard to hack foreign accounts with non-FBI funded software.

  “Jack just texted me and told me not to worry about it again.” I look back at Chase and see his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a frown forming on his lips.

  As much as I hate what I do next, there’s not a doubt in my mind he’s innocent, especially when he’s this perplexed by everything. “Chase, I hate to say this but I think you should call the FBI and have them investigate Jack.”

  I bite my lip and wait for him to get upset about it, but he almost looks relaxed. “Okay, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks he’s messing with my accounts.”

  “Do you know where he might be transferring the money? We could always try to call those banks and see if they can transfer it all back,” I suggest. Unfortunately, I already know those banks are in countries that don’t speak English and won’t transfer money back to the sender that easily.

  “I have no idea,” Chase shrugs. “Doesn’t it say where the money was sent?”

  We look at one of his accounts and, though it does say which bank it was transferred to, it doesn’t show which account or the location of the bank, just the name.

  Chase sighs in frustration and leans back in his seat. “I’ll call the Bureau on Tuesday and see what I can do about this. Until then, let’s lock the accounts so he doesn’t take anything else.”

  Thankfully, I do know how to freeze someone’s accounts so we go through locking all of his accounts, including his personal.

  “Now what do you want to do? I need something to get my mind off of this mess,” Chase half-laughs.

  I had an idea the moment I walked into the building and now that he’s given me the perfect opportunity to tell him, I voice my suggestion. “We’re the only people in here, right?” I ask. He smirks at me, already knowing what I’m about to say. Instead of actually saying more, I slide from my seat to my knees in front of him and run my nails up and down his denim-clad thighs.

  “I don’t have anything keeping me up at night,” I murmur, “so how about I take your mind off things and then we find something else to do?”

  “I think I can handle that,” he replies casually. I pop the button of his jeans and slide the zip open, pulling them towards me when he lifts his hips. He’s already half hard from my quick teasing so I palm him over his boxers until he’s at full attention and his lip is back between his teeth.

  Once again, he lifts his hips so I can slide his boxers down his legs until they pool at his ankles with his jeans. Just as I lean forward, his phone starts buzzing on the desk again.

  “It’s Jack,” he says quickly.

  “Answer it,” I smirk up at him, wrapping one hand around his length. He gives me a hesitant look but doesn’t object. “It could be fun. And if you can’t handle it, just tell him you need to call him back.”

  The hesitance in his eyes fades away and he slides his finger across his phone screen. “Hey Jack. What’s wrong?”

  As they continue their conversation – expectedly about the bank accounts – I lick a stripe from Chase’s balls and up to his tip, swirling my tongue around him until he slides his free hand into my hair. He mumbles something to Jack about handling everything himself but cuts his sentence short when I take him entirely in my mouth until he nudges the back of my throat. I’ve never been wonderful with deep-throating, but Chase almost enjoys watching me struggle to take all of him. Just proves he’s huge, doesn’t it?

  A low moan reverberates down his throat when I pull back and gently suck on the tip, lapping at the pre-cum leaking through. His grip on my hair tightens and he pushes me back down on him, but not too far so I don’t choke on him again.

  He pulls the phone from his ear and whispers, “Baby, I’m close,” his eyes falling closed as he brings the phone back to his cheek. I can tell he’s not paying attention to anything Jack is saying by the mumbled “Mm-hmm’s to keep him from catching on. His head tips back and he pulls his lip between his teeth, biting so hard I’m scared he’ll break the skin. I swirl my tongue around him and take as much as I can, working what I can’t with my hand and scratching my nails down his abdomen with my other.

  He gently pushes my head down a little further and tips the phone away again, muffling his moans with a fake cough. I swallow what I can from him and pull off of him, using my thumb to gather what’s left on my lip and sucking it into my mouth as Chase watches with hooded eyes.

  “You really are something else, aren’t you?” he smiles. I just shrug in response before pushing myself up to stand in front of him.

  “Now what? We have to keep ourselves occupied until Tuesday.”

  “Well I don’t know what I told Jack but I think I told him to wait a week with the frozen accounts before looking at the activity so I’ve got nothing to worry about. Until then,” he stands, stepping closer to me, “I say we go back to my place and spend the weekend inside.”

  “Are you sure?” I tease. “It’s so nice outside this week.”

  “We can open a window,” he smirks. And with that, we’re headed back to his place.

  *****

  Spending the weekend with Chase proves to be exhausting; I walk into work on Tuesday with an aching and tired body. Corrine is already looking at Chase’s accounts when I walk into the tech room and open my own computer.

  “Anything important happen this weekend?” she asks, keeping her eyes trained on her screen.

  “Yeah, actually. A lot. Do you know when Mark gets here? There’s a lot you all need to know.”

  Corrine breaks away from her research and gives me a concerned look. “Yeah. He should be here soon. Are you okay?”

  I nod. “I’m fine, but I think I know who’s transferring all of Chase’s money.

  Ten minutes later, Mark, Brody, Blake, Corrine, and I are sitting around the table in the conference room, everyone’s eyes on me. “What’s up, Rachelle? Why are we here?” Mark asks.

  I’m practically wringing my hands in nervousness. Even though everything is telling me Chase’s accountant is guilty, there’s a small part of me that thinks it could still be Chase.

  “I spent the weekend with Chase.” Corrine’s eyebrows shoot up and she smiles at me in silent ‘congratulations.’ “On Saturday, we went to his office after his accountant called him with concerns about the business accounts. He showed me all of his bank accounts but they were all in D.C. so I don’t think it’s him.”

  “Why would he show you overseas accounts?” Blake asks. “That would look pretty bad.”

  “Not to someone who supposedly works for a small-time IT company,” I snap. “His accountant called him again and said he’d take care of it but Chase was highlighting about a dozen transactions from his accounts he didn’t know about. His personal account has been untouched, though. We froze all of his accounts for a week so no money can go in or out…” I trail off, eyeing the team around me. What I’m about to say could go one of two ways. “And I told him to have the FBI investigate his accountant because we both think it’s him.”

  “You compromised your identity?!” Mark practically screams.


  “No!” I shout back. “I just told him the FBI would be a better solution than the police since we have more power. He still doesn’t know I work here but he might come in later to talk to you.”

  Mark is still fuming when I finish explaining, but everyone else seems okay with it. We’re ten steps closer to solving the case than we were just a few days ago and I can tell they all appreciate it.

  “You and Corrine go back to look at those foreign accounts. Check for any new activity since the accounts were frozen. We’ll wait in here for him to call or arrive,” Mark deadpans.

  Corrine and I head back to the tech room but, right before we get there, a familiar face exits the elevator and I freeze.

  Chase.

  “Rachelle?” he asks, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, uh.” I struggle to think of an excuse on the spot so Corrine jumps in for me.

  “One of our computers is acting up and we’re all pretty busy right now so we called that place down the street to help us fix it,” she explains.

  Chase seems convinced as he walks over to us and gives me a quick hug. “Maybe you can help me, then. I’d like to report potentially illegal activity by one of my employees.” Corrine leads him to Mark while I go to the tech room and check up on the accounts like Mark asked.

  I’m surprised to see all of the accounts are still up and active, but no transfers have happened since a few days before Chase froze his assets. If that isn’t enough proof to catch his accountant, I don’t know what is.

  Corrine comes back just a few minutes later. “They told him they’d start an investigation. He gave them a bunch of information and pretty damning evidence. I have a feeling this guy will be locked up by the end of the week.”

  Right before I leave work that day, I get a text from Chase asking if I can meet him at his office before I head home. We usually just get lunch on Mondays and Thursdays and hang out on Fridays and Saturdays, so asking to get together after work is a little odd.

  I head over to his office nonetheless and knock twice before walking in. He’s just on his computer but he barely looks up when I step inside. Something is off, I can tell.

  “Hey Chase,” I greet in an effort to catch his attention. “What’s up?”

  He’s silent for a beat before actually turning to face me. “I thought you worked for an IT company.”

  “I do,” I reply slowly.

  “Then why did I see an FBI identification card sitting in that office today with your name on it?” I freeze. He knows and now he probably thinks everything that has happened has been a ruse. “Was I being investigated? Is that why you agreed to go out with me?”

  “Chase, come on,” I grumble. “You’re the one who asked me out. How could I have predicted that? Honestly, yes, you were part of a case at first but then we started hanging out and I started to really like you. You have to trust me, Chase.”

  “So none of our dates were involved in your investigation?” he presses.

  “Well, technically I wore a mic that first day at lunch.” He sets his head in his hands and forces a bitter laugh. “But nothing like that has happened since then! When you told me about your accountant, I told my superiors and they immediately started looking into Jack right before you showed up.”

  “Wait, what were you investigating?” he asks.

  I sigh and shake my head. He doesn’t need to know what’s been happening, not when he didn’t have any involvement in it. But he deserves to know.

  “Funds from your accounts have been linked to other accounts overseas. The money from those accounts – which, by the way, were opened in your name – have been linked to terrorist groups and foreign arms trade.”

  Chase looks mortified at this. “I swear I had no involvement in that.”

  “We know, Chase,” I clarify. “That’s why they’re going to bring in your accountant for questioning. You’re clear.”

  He relaxes a little in his seat but keeps his eyes away from mine. I should’ve known something like this would happen. Honestly, he probably could’ve figured it out sooner; he was just too preoccupied with work.

  “You should leave,” he finally says.

  “Chase,” I start. He holds up a hand to cut me off and insists I leave again. I can tell he’s not ready for any more of an explanation, so I exit his office and pray for the best.

  *****

  Nearly a week passes without word from Chase. In that time, his accountant has been arrested and his accounts have been unfrozen. Corrine and I have been assigned to a new case but we tried to transfer back as much of his money as we could. I can tell she’s concerned about how I’ve been acting lately. Since Chase kicked me out of his office, I haven’t really spoken to anyone. He was the first person I would go to and now he’s not answering my texts or calls. I understand why he’s upset, I just wish he’d give me a second chance.

  That Friday after work, Corrine says she’ll walk with me to the bus stop, but we don’t exactly make it that far. Chase is standing right outside the J. Edgar Hoover building leaning against his car with his hands in his pockets. Both Corrine and I freeze when we see him, but she gives my hand a quick squeeze and scurries off on her own.

  “We should talk,” is all Chase says. “Can I finally give you that ride home?”

  I force a small smile at his comment but feel my heart racing as I slide into the passenger’s seat. Maybe now I can finally explain what’s going on and we can move forward from it. He joins me in the car and pulls onto the street. The first few minutes are spent in silence, neither of us entirely sure what to say.

  “You said I started out as a case,” Chase finally says. “Shouldn’t you have said no to me when I asked you out?”

  “If you remember properly, I sort of did say no. A few times, actually,” I laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just a tech girl. I’m supposed to just use the computers and find out what I can from there. I wasn’t supposed to get involved in the field but when I told my boss I had a date with you, he said I had to help with the investigation.”

  “And after that first date, you never spied on me?”

  “Not with a wire or equipment or anything.” He glances over at me quickly with raised eyebrows. “I mean, when we looked at your accounts, I asked certain questions to clear you from the charges, but that was the only time I let my work get involved. All those nights we stayed up watching movies and having a little fun – those were just me.”

  Chase is silent for a few minutes, probably trying to process what I just told him. I can only hope he understands now and realizes everything that happened between us has been real.

  “I really like you, Chase. I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you now if I didn’t.”

  Once again, he stays quiet until we pull up outside my apartment a couple minutes later. I sit beside him for a beat before moving to get out of the car. He opens his own door and reaches into the backseat. I stand on the sidewalk in front of the complex and wait for him to say something – anything. And when he does, all I can do is smile.

  “I was hoping this Friday, we could stay at your place.”

  THE END

  See the next bonus story at the next page!

  2 of 25 Bonus Stories

  Hearts and Hoops

  “Moooo-oooom!”

  There was a particular talent that children had which involved multiplying a single syllable word by ten to get their frustration across. Sofie, who was distracted by the sparse offerings of her wardrobe, took it in maternal stride as her son fixed his big brown eyes on her and pleaded, “Hurry up!”

  “Gee, Hayden,” she said, plucking at the cuff on a sweater that was two washes short of being an antique, “that's usually my line.”

  He dragged his hands over his face and made an unintelligible sound. Sofie looked at his hands; they weren't as plump as they used to be since he had shot up three inches in as many months. His seven, no, she amended mentally, his eight-year-old body flopped bonelessly o
nto her floral bedspread, disrupting the coverlet.

  “You aren't funny.”

  “Moms aren't allowed to be funny; it's the law,” she responded demurely. She paused in her perusal of her wardrobe, which was currently full of oversized sweaters and outdated jeans, and took one look at his lower lip, slowly puffing out and sighed with defeat. “Sweetie, I swear we will get there on time. I know we are running a few minutes behind, but I had a client.”

  “Uuugh. You always have a client!”

  “And that's why you get to eat.”

  “What's taking you so long?” he demanded. He stood up on her bed, and threw his arms wide as if to display his pitch-black jersey with wine red lettering. It was a minor miracle that his socks matched. “I'm ready. Before you are, even!”

  She laughed, and continued to poke through her closet. There was a dress in there somewhere, Sofie was almost sure of it. “And I continue to be shocked that the world did not freeze over.”

  “Mom!”

  She knew she was in trouble now. When he went from the elongated 'mom' to the single syllable 'mom' she knew that Hayden was past mild frustration and fast approaching a meltdown. She turned away from her clothes, and faced the puddle of youthful misery that was her son.

  His short crop of hair, the same rich chestnut shade as her own locks, was haloed around his face. A normally cherubic face was scrunched up in an admirable effort to keep from crying.

  “Hayden,” she kept her voice gentle. “Sweetie, what's wrong?”

  “We are going to be late.” His voice nearly broke with the last word.

  “Am I ever late?”

  He paused for a moment before admitting. “No. But this is different.”

  She raised a brow and crossed the short distance to her son's side. Sofie sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly tugged her son towards her, wrapping an arm around his middle. “How so?”

  “What if they come out before the game? Or what if we miss them warming up or something? I wanna see what happens.”