by Alexa Davis
I could feel his need pressing against my thigh as he kissed me, and in an instant, he lifted me up and carried me over to the edge of his desk. He set me down and pushed my skirt up around my waist as his fingers found the warm, wet place between my legs and began stroking me slowly. I moaned into his mouth, and when I did, he quickly pushed my panties aside as I unzipped his pants and pulled out his swollen shaft.
"I need you, Olivia," he whispered into my lips. "And I'm going to have you right now, right here on my desk, in my office."
"Yes," I whispered, and I felt him spread my thighs and quickly thrust himself deep inside me. I cried out as I took his entire length inside me. He grabbed my waist and held me tightly as he thrust into me over and over. I leaned back and laid my hands flat on the desk behind me so that I could push my hips forward to meet his thrusts. I let my head drop backwards as I focused on the sensation of him moving in and out of me, over and over, as he leaned forward and slowly dragged his tongue up my neck. Then sensation of him thrusting and licking me forced a deep, low moan from my lips as he covered my mouth with his and kissed me.
"Linc," I whispered into his mouth as he slid one hand between us and used his thumb to firmly stroke my clit. The sensation nearly drove me out of my mind when he continued thrusting, and it wasn't long before I was moaning as he took me dangerously close to the edge.
"I want to fly with you, Olivia," he whispered into my lips. "Let's do it together."
I nodded as I kissed him and then raised my arms and wrapped them tightly around his neck as I let go and let the orgasm take me. I groaned loudly as I tried to push him deeper inside of me, and seconds later, I felt him shudder violently as he reached his own edge and fell over with me. One final thrust and he was throbbing and pulsing inside of me as we clung tightly to each other.
"What are we doing?" I asked quietly as I pressed my forehead against his shoulder.
"I don't know, but I can't stop it, Olivia," he replied as he stroked my hair. "And I don't want to."
"I don't either, but..." I trailed off
"But what?"
"But I'm scared," I whispered.
"Of me?"
"Yes...no...I don't know," I admitted.
"What are you scared of, Olivia?" he asked as he pulled back enough to be able to cup my chin and tip my head up so I was looking into his eyes. "Tell me what you're afraid of."
"This...all of this," I said as the tears welled up threatening to spill over. "I can't do this again."
"Do what?"
"Fall," I said as I looked away. "I can't fall again."
"What if I catch you when you fall?" he said softly.
"That's what they all say, and then when things get rough or difficult or someone needs something, they let go and I crash," I said as the tears began flowing down my cheeks.
Linc stepped back and I immediately felt his absence, which made me cry harder because it confirmed all my fears. He raised his hand and wiped the tears from my cheek as he looked into my eyes.
"Olivia, I'm not everyone else," he said. "I know you have no reason to believe me right now, but I swear to you that I'm not like the rest of them."
"Don't tell me that!" I cried as I pushed myself off of the desk and walked to the window. I rested my forehead against the glass and closed my eyes. A moment later, I felt Linc's arms winding around my waist as he pressed himself against me from behind.
"Time will tell," I said as I carefully balanced myself between him and the window and wondered how I would ever sort this all out. I was unsettled and uncomfortable, and I knew I needed to escape. I slowly peeled his hands off of me, turned, kissed his cheek, and then quickly walked out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Linc
I scowled all the way from my office to the car as I thought that maybe Olivia and I could have turned a corner this afternoon. I wasn't sure if she'd rejected me or if it was just her modus operandi of running away before she allowed me to get closer, but I knew I could never give her up. I didn't kid myself into believing that this would be smooth or easy; in fact, I anticipated many more bumpy roads as we tried to figure out how to make this work. Something about that made the path ahead seem navigable even if it was dark and cloudy.
I arrived at the restaurant before Mo did and had already settled into the table with my first drink when I looked up to see her and Brant approaching me.
"What are you doing here?" I said looking at Brant.
"We've discovered some useful information, and I thought I'd better come with her to explain it," Brant said as he sat down and signaled the server. He ordered a whisky for himself and a glass of merlot for Mo, and waited for them to be delivered before he spoke.
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" I said.
"We think we've figured out at least part of what Russo is up to," Brant began. He looked at Mo and then said, "It was actually Mo's discovery, but once she shared it with me, I connected it to the Chinese contract and realized that Russo is after something bigger than we'd thought."
"And that is?" I said looking back and forth between the two of them.
"He's trying to get the bill killed because he's going to steal the technology, Linc," Brant said. "He's got a cut-rate software engineering firm that's managed to duplicate our GRIPTech, and he sees the potential for profit if he can deny you the ability to market our product under law."
"That makes no sense," I said shaking my head. "Wouldn't he benefit, too, if the bill were passed? It would make smart gun technology mandatory, and there's enough business for all of us."
"No, he knows that his technology is sub-standard and it doesn't have the kinds of safeguards we've spent all this time developing," Brant said. "But he knows that if he recommends the product, as the head of the AWN, then the members will buy what he tells them to, and the money will come flooding in."
"But wouldn't we make money, too?" I said, shrugging off the suggestion that we'd be rendered irrelevant if Russo deemed us so. "We'd still have the technology, and ours is better. Market forces and all, right?"
"Lincoln, you don't know Davis Russo the way I know him," Mo said quietly. "I've known him for years and he's a man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants."
"But he's been arguing that grip technology on guns will undermine the second amendment and telling his supporters to oppose it," I said, getting more frustrated as I tried to untangle the mess of motives. "Wouldn't his move into the tech field and recommendations sound rather disingenuous to the followers who are now opposing the technology?"
"This is what I'm trying to tell you, kiddo," Mo sighed. "He doesn't care. He doesn't have a problem with changing course or advocating things he's vehemently opposed to if it benefits him financially or increases his power within the AWN. This is not the first time he's done something like this, and I fear it won't be the last."
"So, what are we supposed to do? Lie down and take it?" I said, growing more irritated as I listened to them talking about all the ways in which the business could fail and how the odds were stacked against us.
"No, actually we were talking about this earlier and came up with a plan to expose Russo," Brant said. I shot him a questioning look as I noticed Mo resting her hand on top of his while he spoke, but he didn't acknowledge my look, only moved his hand away and continued talking. I looked at Mo, but she was signaling for the server as if nothing had happened. "We think that if we can draw Russo out into the open and expose his plan, we can still get the bill passed."
"And, how do you propose we do that, Brant?" I asked.
"Get Olivia to write an article and publish it in tomorrow's paper," Mo said.
"Absolutely not," I said as I shook my head. "I'm not going to use her."
"But she's a journalist," Brant said. "She's used to writing things that have political purpose."
"She's been burned before; I'm not going to be the one to do it again," I said.
"You love her, don't you?" Mo asked. I
looked at her and carefully considered my response. I wasn't sure how I felt about Olivia aside from the fact that when I was away from her all I wanted was to be near her.
"I don't know that I'd go that far," I said warily.
"You do love her," Brant said as he stared at me. "I know what that looks like."
"Then you'll understand why I don't want to use her to get what we want for the company," I said as the server approached and then took our dinner orders. "She's been used before and it hurt her, I don't want to be the one to do it again."
"But we need her to expose Russo," Brant said. "We need this, Linc. We need to save the bill and save the company."
"She'll understand, kiddo," Mo said as she looked at me and then at Brant. I saw something pass between the two of them, but it was too quick for me to hold on to. "She knows that this is important. Just talk to her, will you?"
"Alright, I'll talk to her, but if she says no, then I'm dropping it. Is that understood?"
Brant shot Mo a worried look, but they both nodded in agreement.
"I'll go see her after dinner," I said. Then looking at them both, I asked, "What the hell is going on between the two of you?"
"We're just working together to save GRIPTech and bring down Russo," Mo said as she patted my hand. The look on Brant's face resembled that of a kicked puppy, but it brightened when Mo patted his cheek and said, "No worries."
My intuition told me there was something afoot, but my brain had already moved ahead trying to think of just how I would approach Olivia and ask her to help me expose Davis Russo.
#
Two hours later, I stopped by the Sentinel's newsroom and was admitted by a woman who very closely resembled a human owl.
"Olivia is down at the other end of the newsroom," she said after having checked my identification and decided I was someone who would be safe to allow inside the inner sanctum.
I walked down the hallway into the wide-open room full of desks and computers. There was a television set mounted to the wall and I stopped when I noticed that Davis Russo was, yet again, being interviewed on some nightly news program.
"So Mr. Russo, you've said that your opposition to house bill HR 8212 is purely constitutional," said the interviewer. "But some sources have suggested that you've got another agenda that hasn't been mentioned. Would you care to elaborate on that?"
"James, whatever people are saying behind my back, it's out of spite and envy, so it can't be trusted," Russo grinned magnanimously and then shifted his face so that it reflected pity for the poor misguided souls who were accusing him of such misdeeds. "I'm afraid that there are some very powerful forces in the anti-gun lobby that are working overtime to bring me and the AWN down to our knees over this smart technology issue."
"How is that?" the interviewer asked.
"Well, we believe that every citizen has the right to own a gun, and that if they are denied that right, we are walking perilously close to entering into a society where only the criminals are armed and good citizens are left to roam the streets unprotected," Russo began.
"Don't you think that's a little dramatic?"
"Not at all, James. I can see places even in the United States where citizens without guns are just not safe," he said shaking his head sadly. "We need to be armed, but being armed should not cost an arm and a leg, as Mr. Redding is suggesting it should."
"But Lincoln Redding isn't suggesting gun ownership should be expensive, he's simply saying that we have the technology to prevent many accidents and deaths, so why don't we mandate the use of smart technology and ensure that safety?"
"No, what Mr. Redding is saying is that only the rich should be allow to own guns," Russo declared angrily as he clenched his fist and pounded it on the anchor's desk. "He's saying that only people who can afford to dress up their guns like they're smart phones should be allowed to own weapons, and he's making no bones about the fact that his billionaire interests are the only thing he's concerned with."
I shook my head as I listened to Russo's illogical argument and his stubborn attempt to drive a wedge between people who might otherwise agree.
"That man is a menace," Olivia said as she stood behind me. I turned around, surprised to see her standing there.
"Olivia, I was looking for you," I said.
"Got waylaid by the television, Redding?" she asked, then added with a grin, "Happens to the best of us."
"I need to talk to you. I need a favor."
"Oh, really?" she eyed me suspiciously and then escorted me to her desk where she pulled up a chair and gestured for me to sit down. "Sorry this isn't as hospitable as your deluxe office, but hey, we're on a shoestring budget."
"I see that," I said looking around at the empty office and it's rather shabby furnishings and ancient technology.
"What do you need, Redding?" she asked as she sat down and dug in one of her desk drawers before bringing out a bottle of whiskey and two plastic cups that looked rather well worn. "Clean,” she assured as she poured a shot for each of us and handed me one.
"I need you to write an article exposing Davis Russo's plan to get HR 8212 shot down so he can profit financially," I said.
"I see," she nodded as she looked at me. Her voice was flat when she said, “So, you came down here to get me to do your bidding?"
"No, not like that!" I protested. I could tell I'd offended her, and I didn't blame her for being mad. "I'm not trying to use you, Olivia. I'm just trying to..."
"Get your way," she said. "I get it, you have an agenda and you need someone to help you. Who better than a reporter with access to the front page of a major newspaper."
"Olivia, please," I said as I reached out to touch her. She pushed my hand away as she turned toward her computer.
"Go ahead, dictate what you want in the article and I'll make it happen," she said in a flat voice.
"Olivia, please," I said as I moved toward her and wrapped my arm around her waist. It was an awkward position with both of us in desk chairs, but I wanted her to know that I wasn't trying to use her. "I'm not using you, I just thought...I don't know what I thought. I need help and I don't know who else to ask."
I nuzzled her neck through her thick red hair and then pushed it aside so I could kiss the side of her face. She leaned in for a moment and let me cuddle her, then she turned and said, "Do you want me or do you want Russo?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"A real one," she replied. "Would you be willing to give up the Russo story to have me?"
"Yes, of course," I said less than enthusiastically.
"Yeah, not terribly convincing," she said, turning back around.
"Olivia, listen to me," I said, knowing that this was the moment when I had to decide to tell her the truth or walk away. "I'm going to tell you the truth, then you can decide what to do with it. I won't tell you what to write or how to write it or even if it should be written. I'm just going to tell you what I know and then you can use it as you see fit. Okay?"
She nodded, but didn't turn around. I spent the next thirty minutes telling her my entire history, from my parents’ deaths to the fact that my company was now hanging in the balance because Davis Russo was intent on ruining me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I could see her taking notes. She asked a few questions, and then when she was done, she looked at me and nodded.
"Will you write the story?" I asked.
"I don't know yet," she replied. Then she turned around and looked at me as she put her hand on my cheek. "But I appreciate you telling me the whole story. It makes a difference. Now, I'm going to tell you what I know."
Olivia quickly filled me in on the theory that Russo and Bangor had brought in a third man to assassinate the senators, but I couldn't figure out who he was. She told me about their involvement in the BAR during the ’70s and the way in which Russo had flipped and gone to the AWN when the money called. I listened carefully and then asked her again.
"Will you write the story?"
&nbs
p; She leaned forward and lightly kissed my lips. There was no invitation for more than that, and I didn't try. She stared at me for what felt like a long time before she said, "Okay, you can go now. I need to work."
I got up and walked out the way I'd come in, wondering how I would explain this to Mo and Brant.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Olivia
As soon as Linc left the newsroom, I called Bix and told her what had happened.
"What do I do, Bix?" I asked as I chewed on the cap of a pen I'd found in my desk drawer.
"First, quit chewing on that pen, the sound is disgusting," she admonished me. "Second, what do you want to do?"
"I want to take Russo and Bangor down. I want them to pay for the mess they've created, I want the bill to pass, and I want GRIPTech to put smart technology on every gun in this country, but that's not the point."
"What is the point?" she asked. I could hear the kids in the background yelling at the top of their lungs. Bix pulled the phone away and said, "Excuse me, banshees, I am on the phone, can you please tone down the raid on the fridge?"
"Nice, very nice," I laughed when she returned.
"They're driving me crazy; I'm glad there's less than a week to go before Christmas or I'd really be nuts," she laughed. "But back to you, what do you want to do?"
"I told you!" I said. "I'm just not sure I have enough evidence to prove that Bangor and Russo are the ones responsible for the BAR action in the 1970s. I'm also still in the dark about the shooter!"
"Liv, what did your journalism professors tell you to do when you weren't absolutely sure of the facts?"
"If the facts didn't check, we didn't run the story," I said.
"Then you know what you need to do," she replied. "Check your facts and write the story that the facts support. If it brings Russo and Bangor down, then good, but if it doesn't, then maybe someone else will be able to pick up the pieces and take it the rest of the way."