by Tara Quan
He slid his hand into his undone pants and freed his erection, his jerky movements betraying his own lack of control. When he grabbed her waist and pulled her to the edge of the counter, a sliver of sanity broke through the maelstrom of harsh breaths and racing heartbeats. “Zack…wait…you need to….”
He somehow managed to decipher her truncated message. His hands shook as he reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet onto the counter. “You get it.”
Before she could process his command, he yanked her knees apart. Then he slid both hands along her inner thighs until he reached the apex of her legs. He parted her folds with his thumb, his gaze fixed on her face. “The condom, Maya.”
A second after she lifted his wallet, her hand crashed back onto the counter as he searched for and found her clit. He pressed down, applying almost too much pressure before he circled, the motion sending another electric jolt. Concentrating every last ounce of brainpower on the task, she managed to pull out the packet as his index finger delved inside her.
Her lids drifted shut. Whimpering, she fell back, her muscles no longer able to keep her upright. Then his palm warmed her lower back, his hold supporting her seated position. She opened her eyes and saw smug, masculine satisfaction. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.” He nodded at the packet crushed in her clenched hands. “Are you planning on using that?”
She didn’t know how she managed to tear the condom free with him fingering her, his thumb continuing its torment. Moisture coated his skin, the ease with which he added a finger betraying her desire. The lancing heat obliterated her hand-eye coordination. “Stop. Your arm is in the way.”
He didn’t fall for her ploy. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”
Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes to stay open while she reached around his forearm, her free hand trembling as she grabbed his member. He groaned, his maddening stimulation brought to an abrupt halt. Two could play this game.
She positioned the condom over the engorged head and smoothed it down until she reached the base. Deciding to give him a dose of his own medicine, she trailed her fingers over his balls.
He spasmed, his tensing arm pushing his fingers deeper inside her. Before she could protest the discomfort, he yanked his hand back. “Remind me to spank you one day.”
She planned to. Sending him a triumphant smile, she lifted her arms to circle his neck as he grabbed her waist with both hands and positioned himself at her opening. With a single hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. There was no pain this time, only the hot lance of pleasure and toe-curling friction.
She spread her legs farther apart in a silent plea. Pulling out until only his head was inside her, he gave her what she wanted and more. She bit his shoulder to stem a cry, her arms tightening around him as he pounded into her in a fast, steady rhythm. Each time he filled her, he circled his hips and ground his pubic bone over her exposed clit, the direct stimulation and burning penetration combining into exquisite torment. Her breasts flattened against his sweat-slicked chest. His back muscles rippled against the inside of her forearms.
He dug his fingers into her back, his grip unrelenting as he held her in place and forced her to accept his impalement. The low rumbling sounds from his throat harmonized with her muted pleas, their harsh, shallow breaths echoing around her. As every muscle in her body tensed, he quickened his movements, spreading molten heat from where their bodies met to engulf her whole.
Chapter Eight
“Damn, he’s good.” It gave Maya distinct satisfaction to hear Zack say the words. After all, her cousin had delivered exactly what they needed.
Inhaling steam from the mug of spiced chai in his hand, she murmured, “I thought you didn’t drink tea.”
“I don’t. This is for you.” He placed her beverage on the table and sat. She scented coffee coming from his direction. “Isn’t six-thirty a bit late for caffeine?”
He shrugged. “Our sleep cycle’s already wrecked. How did your Dan score those photos?”
She slid the laptop back toward him. “Dan’s not mine, and he’d be the first one to say so.” Unable to resist the temptation, she took a sip of the sweet, milky concoction. It probably came out of a carton, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Dubai has a small police force, so they rely heavily on surveillance. There are cameras everywhere, and people who buy Ferraris tend to get speeding tickets. It’s also a small town, so when a mysterious shipping tycoon who doesn’t own any ships buys a manmade island, it gets reported in the society papers.” She noted Zack’s pensive expression. “Why aren’t you dancing a jig? We’ve got him.”
He guzzled his coffee. “Not until all this hits the press.”
She canted her head. “Then let’s get it done.”
He glanced at her over the rim of his mug. “Right now?”
“Don’t you just have to pick someone and e-mail them?”
The muscle on his jaw ticked. “The financial trail is too complicated.” He shut the lid of his laptop. “Considering the possible repercussions, no reporter is going to stick their neck out without an expert going on record, preferably in video form.”
It took a moment before she understood the reason for his upset. “You thought you’d be able to keep me out of it? Even after some dude broke down my door?”
His fingers clenched over his mug’s handle. His hand shook as he set it down. “No one can prove we even met, not without admitting to illegal surveillance on their end. If the guy had been sloppier, if the trail had been clearer, I could have walked into the Herald and told them I figured it all out on my own. Once the story came out, there would be no reason for anyone to come after you. I’d be gone, and you’d be—”
“—royally pissed off,” she snapped. “If you thought I’d let you disappear—”
His fist crashed on the table. “I wouldn’t have given you a choice.”
Rising to her feet, she pointed at the laptop. “Get in touch with a reporter before you lose your nerve. I know you already have someone in mind.”
He glared at her. “And we’re going to hold off until I find a way to keep your name out of the papers.”
“This is not the time to act like an overprotective jackass.” She placed her hands on her hips. “The cover-up involves more than a dozen shell corporations, with money funneled through banks across the Caribbean, Europe, and the Middle East. It took a well-trained and highly skilled forensic accountant to follow the trail, and you’re going to need one to explain it. Do you know any besides me?”
His expression hardened. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Before those men in black show up at your doorstep?” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot and spew expletives in multiple languages. “The longer we sit on this, the more likely Roger Simelach will cover his tracks and kill you in the process. He knows how far we’ve gotten. It was on my laptop. They must have grabbed it when they broke into my apartment.”
He gave her a superior look, which made her palm itch to slap him. “I remotely formatted your hard drive and cleaned out your Internet usage history while you were busy playing leapfrog. He doesn’t have a clue—”
“He found me after I looked at the financial records of his shell company in Dubai.” She jabbed her index finger into his chest. “The guy might be a sociopath, but he’s also a genius. We’ve already wasted too much time, and you bloody well know it.”
He stood up and grabbed her shoulders. “I will not let you ruin your life because of my screw-up.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped. “This wasn’t a victimless crime. People lost their jobs, a tuberculosis epidemic wiped out an entire village, all because our government made a terrible mistake. If no one does anything about it, these abuses of power will get worse. You have your friend’s death on your conscience. I refuse to have anyone’s on mine. You can either set up this meeting, or I’ll do it myself.”
“Maya—”
&
nbsp; “Don’t Maya me.” She pushed at his chest. He didn’t budge. “And by the way, we’re in this together. The next time you forget that, I will punch you in the face.”
Strong arms wrapped around her body, crushing her against warm, hard muscle. “This isn’t a game. There’s no reset button. If we do this—”
“It’s already done.” She circled his waist and buried her face in his T-shirt. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.”
***
Zack had thought he’d have more time. But as luck would have it, the investigative journalist he’d been researching had a seven p.m. videoconference on her calendar. When he spoofed a meeting invite from her boss’s boss for eight o’clock, she accepted it in less than two minutes. It didn’t make sense not to show up.
And now all he could do was stand and watch as a forty-something-year-old woman with salt and pepper hair prompted Maya to sit in front of a handheld camera. “Could you please state your name and occupation for the record?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her trembling fingers betraying anxiety, Maya answered. “My name is Maya Jain. I’m currently employed by the Treasury Department as a forensic accountant. I have a bachelors and master’s degree in the field from MIT”
She looked too young to have those credentials, with her long, black hair tied up in a high ponytail and her face devoid of make-up. Curly tendrils escaped the coiffure to frame her face. Not wanting to take chances with sizing, he’d bought her a simple black T-shirt and khaki drawstring capris. Coupled with the sporty hiking sandals, she resembled a teenager in that outfit.
He turned and looked out of the office window as the interview continued. The building that housed the Washington Herald was empty but for a few guards and a handful of journalists. A seasoned reporter, April Neil had recognized him on sight. She didn’t even remark on the circumstances that precipitated his presence in her office, or how he’d managed to insert his alias on the security access log for the building. After all, she knew she was about to score the story of a lifetime.
After he presented Ms. Neil with a flash drive containing everything he and Maya had put together, she’d interviewed him first, astutely concentrating on the circumstances behind Bill Camden’s death to establish a clear motive for what he’d done afterward. Zack had no illusions he’d get away scot-free. He’d broken the law. After Edward Snowden’s revelations ignited a worldwide Datagate scandal, he doubted the US Justice Department would look too kindly on another government contractor turned whistleblower.
Maya’s voice leveled, her tone gaining certainty as the questions shifted from details of their first meeting to the specifics of the money trail. Turning to watch her, he was struck by how much she loved what she did. Her face grew more animated the more she talked, her hands lifting to make odd gestures as she emphasized certain points. With her mathematical genius, she could have chosen to make ten times her salary on Wall Street or gone into academia. Instead, she’d chosen this obscure field and excelled in it. If he hadn’t shown up, she would be on track to become the country’s foremost expert on the subject.
Now she’d have to leave it all behind—her job, her home, and even her family. She’d just admitted on tape to not only aiding and abetting a fugitive, but also to accessing classified information she’d known had been illegally obtained. Compared to his crimes, hers weren’t too egregious. But whether or not she ran, her life as she knew it would be over.
And while he’d never consider himself a paragon of virtue, he couldn’t let her throw it all away without a fight. This was a woman who’d moved back to D.C. to stay close to her family, whether or not she wanted to admit it. She maintained close contact with her siblings and ate with her parents at least twice a month. Back when they were in college, while her peers had planned spring breaks in Cancun, she’d spent every single holiday at home. She might think she could walk away, but he knew the separation would destroy her.
The decision he’d been dreading ever since he’d accepted the reality of her involvement firmed into hard resolve. It was a gamble, a fucking Hail Mary pass based on blind faith in a system he’d gone to great lengths to prove was broken. But if it yielded the slightest chance that she’d survive this without a criminal record, he’d take the risk. After all, no one’s happiness mattered more than hers—not even his own.
“All right, Ms. Jain.” April Neil’s excited voice ended his internal debate. “I think I have enough.”
The reporter turned to face him. “I can give you some lead time to get away. A few weeks—”
He shook his head. “I’ve gotten good at avoiding the feds. The quicker this makes headlines, the sooner those Bluewater mercenaries get reassigned.” Considering what he was about to do, the offer mattered even less. Noticing Maya’s furrowing brows, he added, “Besides, I’m already on every agency’s watch list. The story can’t make things any worse.”
Unsettled by the pinched look on Maya’s face, he walked over to squeeze her hand. It was going to be all right. She just didn’t know it yet. “Are you sure you have everything you need, Ms. Neil?”
The journalist nodded. “It’ll be on the front page of the Herald tomorrow. This is one of those articles my editor will hold the presses for. He might even let me procrastinate until three in the morning. Thank you for letting me write your story.”
Zack grinned. “You should hold that thought for when a platoon of Captain America types show up at your doorstep.”
April laughed. “If they all look like Chris Evans, I’ll quite enjoy it. Don’t worry. I was once invited to Saleh’s presidential palace in Yemen. Rule-abiding federal law enforcement with peashooters don’t scare me.”
***
“Whatever is going through your head, it’s a bad idea,” Maya remarked as they walked through the Herald’s glass doors onto 15th Street.
Zack avoided eye contact. He’d forgotten how perceptive she was. “I was about to propose we split up and take different routes back in case someone’s watching this building.” The receiver in his bag would have detected the presence of Bluewater folks, but she didn’t know he’d brought it. “You take a bus, and I’ll take the Metro. We’ll meet at the apartment and go through our options.”
She stopped and pivoted to face him. “Look at me.”
Steeling himself, he met her gaze with a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not about to do something stupid like turn yourself in to the FBI, are you?”
It really sucked to have a partner in crime who possessed a higher IQ. “Of course not. Who would be that idiotic?”
She crossed her arms, her expression amused. “Fine. Swear to me you’re heading straight to Georgetown after this.”
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Nonetheless, he lifted his right hand and raised three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
To his amazement, she seemed to believe him. “Do you remember how to get to the Metro station? You were quite useless after you tossed your phone this morning.”
He opened his mouth to assure her when he realized he’d no idea where he was going. He hadn’t been in this city very long, and he’d spent most of his time holed up in Georgetown. The only reason he’d known how to get from Maya’s place to his was by mapping the various routes in advance. Without a GPS, he couldn’t tell north from south. “Umm….”
She pointed her thumb backward over her shoulder. “Walk down that road until you get to K Street, then turn left to go to the McPherson Square stop.”
“Cool. And there’s….” He couldn’t very well ask her for directions to the FBI Headquarters.
She must be in a good mood since she helpfully added, “A map inside the station? Of course. D.C.’s a tourist city remember?” She started walking forward. “I’ll head over to the bus stop now.”
“Maya, wait.” He grabbed her shoulder and stopped her advance. Cupping the side of her face with his free hand, he brushed his lips briefly over her
s. “I….” Unable to get the words out, he switched to the more neutral, “You know I think you’re awesome, right?”
Her snort hinted at impatience. “Words meant to melt every girl’s heart.” She rose on tiptoe and returned the kiss. He’d never been a huge fan of public displays of affection, but he was beginning to understand why people did it. It felt great to have her body pressed up against him, her teeth teasing his lower lip. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t think of anything more perfect.
By the time she stepped back, he’d almost forgotten what he’d planned to do. “We can always walk back together.” Her voice was breathless, her dark eyes pleading.
He shook his head. “Go on. I’ll see you again in a few.”
***
It seemed surreal walking to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building, with the National Mall to his left, the White House on the horizon, and the Capitol at his back. He’d never gotten to play tourist in Washington, D.C. Knowing he’d likely spend the next ten years in prison, he wished he’d done things differently. For one, he should have stayed in Boston after kissing Maya instead of running off to San Francisco.
Pulling his shoulders back, he crossed the intersection and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He was making the right decision—the only decision, considering the circumstances. The last thing he should be worrying about was how pissed off Maya would be when she found out. Passing a roadside bench, he spotted the address sign on an unassuming mid-sized, concrete building. Looking up, he saw lights shining through a few windows and breathed a sigh of relief. He’d figured at least some agents in the Federal Bureau of Investigation wouldn’t keep nine-to-five hours. Besides, how hard could it be to surrender oneself?