by J. Kenner
Of course, I do, filling her with one deep thrust that has her crying out even as she grabs my ass as if to push me even deeper. We move together, fast and hard, and as I get closer, I finger her clit, wanting to bring her along with me. I feel the contractions in her core as release approaches, and then she’s trembling beneath me, her body breaking apart and sending me spinning off as well, following her into ecstasy until finally—finally—we make our way back from the stars and lay motionless together as the cool night air soothes our heated skin.
We stay that way for a while, then we get up and move inside, laughing softly as we wonder if anyone heard us.
“Well, we are engaged,” she says, sliding naked into the bed with me.
She’s on her side, and I idly trace my fingertip along the curve of her waist, not really thinking anything, just enjoying the way she looks right now.
After a moment, she meets my eyes. “Why did you?”
I shake my head, confused.
“Tonight. This.” She licks her lips. “I’m not complaining, not by a long shot, and I know you’re attracted to me, too. But there’s the whole thing with Brody and, well, you could have said no.” She glances down, her voice softer when she says, “Was it just pity after my heartfelt speech? You feeling sorry for the teenage girl trapped inside me?”
“God no,” I say, wishing she could see how much I mean it.
“Then what?”
I look at her, this woman who’s made it clear that this is a system cleansing. Something fleeting, but fun.
I conjure the hint of a smile. “It doesn’t matter. Why analyze something that’s only going to last a weekend?” I move closer so that I can slip my hand between her thighs. “Instead, let’s just enjoy the time we have.”
Chapter Eleven
I stretch in the dark, still half-asleep and not certain what sound woke me. I roll over, reaching for Sam, only to find the other side of the bed empty.
I sit up, groggy but not concerned. Last time I’d gotten bent out of shape, she’d simply been at the spa. Then I check my phone, see that it’s past one in the morning, and come wide awake.
“Sam?” I keep my voice low in case she’s asleep in the other room. Maybe she got up last night after we made love, then went in there to read and fell asleep. But as soon as I go into the sitting area, I see that’s not the case.
I also see that the drapes are moving, caught in a breeze that isn’t coming from the AC vent. I pull the curtain aside and find the door cracked open. Since that probably means that Sam is out in the garden, I step outside as well. But she’s not here either, and when I go to the gate, I see that it’s firmly closed.
Frowning, I unlatch the gate, then step into the poolside common area. A single light is on, and waves of watery light ripple over the area, providing just enough illumination to make out the other suites.
I turn slowly, taking in the area, but see no one. Maybe she’s with Cherry? That’s what women do before a wedding, right? And the ceremony is tomorrow, after all.
I’m surprised she didn’t tell me she’d be leaving, but maybe it was a last minute thing. Feeling somewhat better, I head back into the garden, intending to give up and go back inside, when I see a flicker of movement on the far side of the pool. I look again, trying to make it out, then realize it’s a figure moving in the shadows near the entrance to Reg’s suite.
Surely that’s not…
But it is. I recognize her as soon as a glimmer of pool light hits her. Her eyes wide and her face flushed.
I wait inside the gate, and as soon as she steps through, I take her arm and pull her toward me, clapping my other hand over her mouth to quiet her bloodcurdling scream.
“What the hell?” Her whisper is low and angry when I finally release her.
“I think that’s a question for me,” I retort as soon as I’ve tugged her inside the suite and shut the door. “What the hell were you doing sneaking out of Reg’s suite?”
Her eyes go wide. “You cannot possibly think that I went over there for a quickie. Oh my God, Leo. Ewww.”
I release her arm. “God no,” I say, because if she’s still interested in Reg, then I need to forget about doing investigative work, because I saw not one iota of evidence. “I think you’re stealing corporate secrets.”
She’d been in a defensive posture, ready to challenge whatever came out of my mouth. But now she cringes back, as if I’d struck a hard blow across her cheek.
A cold steel band tightens around my heart. “Fuck.” My word is soft, but the emotion is severe. I leave her standing there as I pace the sitting area, frustrated because the furniture is too damn prissy to punch or kick without breaking something. “Fuck.”
This time, it’s a yell, and I see her jump. I don’t care. I really don’t. “You used me,” I say, crossing back to her. “All weekend, Reg has chattered about his industry and corporate spies. The same goddamn industry you’re freelancing in. Does stealing secrets pay better than contract labor?”
I expect her to yell right back at me. To get completely defensive. I even expect there’ll be tears. What I don’t expect is the hard, fiery slap she lands on my left cheek.
“You raging bastard,” she says, the words low and measured. “Do you really think I’d do that?”
“No.” The word is automatic, said without thinking. But it’s true, and I can tell that she knows it, too, because I see the relief in her eyes. “No, I don’t. But what were you doing in there? And dammit, why didn’t you tell me?”
My words melt the last bit of steel inside her, and she sinks down onto a mauve ottoman. “I didn’t know if you’d help me.”
“Baby, where have you been?” I kneel in front of her, my hands on her knees. “I will always help you.”
“Easy to say without knowing the story.”
“Always,” I repeat firmly. “But tell me, anyway.”
She draws in a breath, then nods. “Okay,” she says, but before she can start, I hush her with a finger over her lip. “Does this change any of what you said before?”
“About you?” The corner of her mouth curves up in what I think is relief. “Not a single word.”
“Good. Go on.”
“We did work together at MT,” she begins. “But it didn’t end quite the way I said. There was a gap when neither of us worked for another company. That’s when we started dating and when we started our own company. Unfortunately, we did the work before we drew up the papers, so the whole thing was kind of a mess.”
She continues, telling me how she worked for months refining a next-level operating system geared toward gaming. “I’d been brainstorming it for years but never had enough time to dig deep. So while I did that, Reg started making contacts. Putting the pieces in place for our big jump into the market.”
“Let me guess. That’s when he met Lisa.”
She nods, then tells me about how he cheated on her with Lisa, specifically not breaking up until after the system was essentially complete. “But we had a partnership, even if the paperwork was dicey. And we both had access to the server that held all our system files.”
I clench my fists, pretty sure I see where this is going.
“He offered to buy me out.” She tells me the number, and I whistle. “I know. It’s a lot. But not even close to what it was worth then or what he’ll get selling it to Sunspot. But the truth is that I was tired of him. Tired of the whole thing, really. So I agreed, and he paid me half. I used part of it to buy the Crestview house.”
“But somewhere we make a left turn.”
She nods. “Around the time of the sale, he hacked my computer. Came over for coffee one day supposedly to go over details of the sale of the business and sign the contract, since if nothing else he’d need that in writing if he wanted to license it up the chain. Later, when I was out of the room, he logged onto my laptop and locked me out of everything.”
“He knew your password.”
“He knew everything. Either becau
se he had legitimate access through the business or because he’d paid attention while we were sleeping together. I don’t tell anyone my passwords. Ever. But he has a photographic memory. If I was nearby when I logged in…”
“Yeah,” I say. “I get it. But what does this have to do with tonight?”
“His big presentation on Monday—the one he’s been bragging about that’s supposed to nail him a promotion—is for our system.”
I frown, processing all of that. “So the corporate spies he’s worried about—that’s you?” She already told me she wasn’t spying tonight, but maybe Reg thought she would?
“Hell no. Why would I need to spy? It’s already in my head and notes. If I had to, I could rebuild it.”
“Then I’m not following.”
“He paid me half. Half. He’s arranged a life-changing, career making meeting for himself on a system that he got through larceny. As far as I’m concerned, he’s climbing the ladder on my goodwill. And I don’t have a lot of goodwill to spare for that prick.”
“You want more money?”
She shakes her head. “I want what he agreed to. And I want it before he sells what doesn’t really belong to him.”
“But the meeting’s tomorrow,” I point out, because it’s technically Sunday now.
“I know. That’s why I was in his suite. I was trying to hack into the system and install a paywall.”
“A—wait. You were going to set it up so that he’s stuck until he pays?”
“Yup. I have everything all set up. He just has to log in and authorize the transfer. The money will hit my account immediately, and within minutes, he’ll have access to the system again.”
“So where was Reg tonight?”
She lifts a shoulder, unconcerned. “Asleep. He takes meds. Once he’s out, it’s forever.”
“Dammit, Sam. What if he skipped his meds tonight?” My voice is probably harsher than it should be, but I’ve seen a lot of shit in my time, and the knowledge of what might have happened to her makes my blood run cold.
She reaches over and takes my hand. “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the very beginning.”
“And I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
We share a smile. “So that’s the story of how I got screwed by my ex.”
“Screwed,” I repeat, then focus on a detail from earlier. “You said you tried to install the paywall. What happened?”
“He’d changed things up enough that I couldn’t get through.”
“Then? Or ever?”
“What does it matter? Tomorrow’s the wedding, and he’s not even staying the night. He’ll be off to Austin after the ceremony. I could go back in tonight, but I don’t think I could pull everything I need together by morning.” She shakes her head in disgust.
“Maybe it’s for the best. He’d be one hell of an enemy if you humiliate him in a board meeting. He might even sue you, and even if he doesn’t win, it would be a pain in the ass.”
“No, no. He deserves it, but I wasn’t intending anyone at Sunspot to know about this. He always double and triple checks things. He’ll probably do a test run after the wedding before he drives back and another one in his office before the big meeting. I figured my bank account would be full before you even dropped me back at my house.”
I stand up, then extend my hand. She takes it, and I pull her into a hug. “Then let’s make that happen.”
“What?” She pushes back, studying my face. “How?”
“I don’t know yet, but this is the kind of thing that I do. Congratulations, baby. You’re our newest client.”
Chapter Twelve
“Sounds like the best time to get in is during the wedding,” Cayden says.
We’re in The Oak Room on Main Street, this time sitting in a corner around a cocktail table made from a wine barrel. Cayden and I are sipping bourbon and Sam is toying with her red wine, having barely touched it.
“And you’re sure you can do this?” I don’t need to hear the nerves in her voice to know how on edge she is about this plan. This is, after all, the fifth time she’s asked that question since we met Cayden two hours ago.
I’d called him this morning to explain the situation. Since Pierce is still out of town and Connor and Kerrie are using weekends for their own wedding planning, Cayden was the natural choice.
“Have I gotten anything wrong so far?”
She shakes her head. They’d been using her laptop to run a simulation she created overnight, and so far he’s aced it, using the tricks and tools she described to him.
“It’s just different when you’re in that room alone,” she says.
“I promise you I can handle it.” With the patch, Cayden can come off scary if he wants to. Right now, he’s nothing but gentle reassurance. “I’ve got mad tech skills. More than that, I have step by step instructions from you and a genius in my back pocket.”
“Huh?”
“The firm partners with a tech genius at the Austin office of Stark Applied Technology,” I tell her. “It’s how we get our best gadgets.”
Cayden pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Got him on speed dial. Seriously, do you think this clown would put you in my hands if he didn’t think I could do it?”
Sam’s eyes go to mine, and for a moment it’s just the two of us. “No,” she whispers. “He wouldn’t.”
“All right, then,” Cayden says, flashing a winning smile. “Let’s start digging down. Wedding’s at sunset. I want you to quiz me on the hack at least a dozen times before that, with every worst case scenario you can think of.”
She nods. “I have the bridal tea in a few, but when I get back, we’ll jump into that. In the meantime, memorize the notes I gave you.”
Cayden nods. “You got it, boss.”
“How did you get into his room?” I ask, realizing we’d left out that little detail.
“I just waited until no one was at reception and stole the extra key.”
Cayden laughs. “Yeah, you’ll do,” he says, and I actually swell with pride.
“You brought coms?” I ask him.
“Not my first rodeo, remember? Of course I did.”
“Good. If you need any specific help, Sam can fake a stomach bug and head to the ladies room.”
“Are you just going to wander into the resort?” Sam asks him. “Won’t people wonder?”
“I’ve got a gardener’s uniform in my truck. And I don’t wander. In and out. Won’t be a problem.”
“Okay then.” She sucks in air, then lets it out again. “I guess—well, I guess I’ll let you guys go over stuff on your own and I’ll be back after the bridal tea so we can work through it some more.”
She stands, as do Cayden and I. She gives me an awkward hug that I translate as I have no idea if I can kiss you in front of this guy, then accepts Cayden’s bear hug.
With one last look at me, she heads out the door, and not for the first time, I hope this last minute, pulled-out-of-our-asses mission will go through. Because I can’t stand the thought of failing and disappointing her.
“All right,” Cayden says once she’s out of sight. “I want the blow by blow.”
A few days ago, I might have told him to fuck off. Today, I tell him the entire story, glossing over nothing except the most intimate of details.
“So there you go,” I say, not sure if I actually want advice or just needed to unburden. “And if you breathe a word of this to Brody, you’re a dead man.”
“My lips are sealed, except to offer you advice.”
“I’m listening.”
“Go out, find a woman, and fuck her until you get your mind off that one.”
“What the hell?”
Cayden leans back, then takes a sip of whiskey before answering. “That’s your MO, right? And you like this girl. So stop while you’re ahead. Don’t risk breaking her heart because you’re only interested in fucking around.”
He’s partly right, of course. That used to be the way I oper
ated. But now? Now I hardly recognize that man.
I sip my own drink, then trace a pattern in the condensation on the tabletop. “I look at you and Gracie, and Connor and Kerrie, and Pierce and Jez, and I wonder what the fuck I was doing playing hopscotch over women, landing on one just long enough to launch myself to the next.”
“That presents a terrible mental picture. You know that right?”
I ignore him.
“Do you know why before last weekend I hadn’t slept with a woman in over two months?”
“Because you’d already run through the entire single population of Austin?”
“Funny. No, it’s because I hadn’t met one that I didn’t want to fuck. And I don’t mean that in the I wouldn’t want her in my bed kind of way. I mean that I hadn’t met a woman special enough to make me want more than just entertainment between the sheets.”
I pause, swirling my glass so the single ice cube clinks against the sides. “I hadn’t met a single woman I’d like to take to dinner and simply talk with. Then take her home and kiss her good night, and go home happy because it was a good date, and I wanted another one, and another one after that, and then a few more besides, all paving the path to the bedroom, sure. But when we got there it would mean something.”
“Are you saying that’s Sam?”
“I don’t—” I frown. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Think? Sure sounds definite to me.”
“Then I really am fucked—and not in a good way. Because she only wants me for the fantasy potential.”
“You sure about that? Not the vibe I was getting just now.”
“She’s very clear. Her life is in Seattle, and I’m the childhood fantasy she wants to spend the weekend fucking out of her system.”
He makes a grunting sound.
“What?”
“Just that in my experience women don’t always say what they want. Neither do men, to be fair.” He taps a coaster on the table. “Actually, okay, the truth is, in my experience nobody ever says what they want.”