When her orgasm fades, I ease my fingers out and claim her mouth, prying her lips open with my tongue. I wrap a hand around the base of her head to hold it hostage and plunder, command her to submit.
She does. She opens for me, presses her killer body against mine, kisses me back.
Damn.
With great effort, I break off the kiss.
She gazes up at me, beautifully disheveled from the rain and my assault. "Does this mean we're square?" She sounds breathless.
"Not even close, baby. You owe me, and I intend to collect."
Her gaze drops to my stiffy. "How?" She doesn't wait for the answer, but sinks to her knees.
The creak of a floorboard in the hallway makes me curse inwardly. I yank her back to her feet before we give Sam a show. Why in the hell didn't I shut the bathroom door?
Although the sound is soft enough I thought she'd miss it, Kylie startles, craning her neck to see around my shoulder. Every cell in my body screams for me to reach for the door knob, shut the door and tell her to please continue.
But no-Kylie is human. And my employee. Because I am keeping her on, where I can watch her.
Keep your enemies closer.
I've already gone way too far with her. Any further, and I'd mark her, and then I'd have a world of new trouble on my hands.
Forcing restraint, I pull a clean towel from the cabinet and toss it to her. "Get in the shower and warm up. I'll find you some dry clothes."
I turn her around and propel her toward the shower stall, delivering another smack to her heart-shaped ass.
She makes a low purring sound in her throat and looks over her shoulder with heat.
I bite back a groan. It takes all my willpower to turn around and walk out, shutting the door behind me.
Ginrummy
His cell phone beeps. It's eight p. m., and he's still at SeCure, but that isn't unusual. It isn't unusual for half the employees there. They work flex time, and a lot of programmers do their best work at night.
It's Mr. X calling.
Yeah, seriously. The asshole calls himself Mr. X.
He doesn't know how many people he has under him or behind him. He did his best digging and all he came up with was that Mr. X doesn't exist. He's part of some powerful organized crime ring.
Well, whatever. He'd do his part and become a rich man. Maybe he would even warn Kylie back into hiding before the FBI pick her up. Or not. He still hasn't made his mind up about her. He is both more attracted and repelled by her now that he's met her in person.
He swipes his screen. "What's up?"
"Looks like your threat wasn't convincing enough."
Not a surprise. She is Catgirl, after all.
"How do you know?"
"Her bags are packed. We picked up the old lady she lives with, though. We'll take it from here."
His breath stalls in his chest, and he feels sick to his stomach. Well, duh. Of course these guys wouldn't be above kidnapping. Jesus, they probably aren't above murder, either. A chill runs through his limbs. What will they do with the old lady? What will they do with Kylie?
Fuck.
He doesn't want to be a part of all this. But he does want the fifty million dollars and safe passage out of the country promised to him. And this is why he's partnered with men like Mr. X. They are willing to do the hard stuff. All he had to do was write the code.
And it's too damn late to back out. Yeah, he has a feeling the only way out of this now will be through a bullet in the head.
~.~
Kylie
My legs wobble as I step into the shower. I may still be wet, but I'm sure as hell not cold anymore. Holy finger fucking, Batman. And now I see the advantage of a real live sexual partner. They do things to you you didn't know are possible.
All this time I'd been perfectly content with watching porn and using my battery operated boyfriend. I shimmy out of my wet jeans and take off my bra and panties.
Who has seen you in these cute-as-hell panties?
Did he really turn agro over some imaginary other man? A shiver runs through me, and I step under the spray of water. Is that a total red flag? Maybe he is as creepy as I'd portrayed him in the elevator. Would he keep me locked in a closet for whipping?
Oh God. Just the thought of confinement in a small space makes my solar plexus twist. I erase the thought, focusing instead on the whipping part.
He spanked me.
A grin splits my face and I reach back to palm my ass, which burns a little under the spray of warm water.
Yummy.
Seriously, that was the hottest thing that ever happened to me.
Okay, yes, it's the only hot thing that's ever happened to me.
My V-card has never been punched. I've lived such a strange existence, never able to trust anyone. I started college at age sixteen, had a few unsatisfying hook ups in which I abandoned my goal of punching the card and gave blowjobs instead. So, yeah. That's my sex life in a nutshell.
Total virgin, finger fucked by Jackson King in his bathroom after confessing to hacking him as a teen.
The fact he satisfied me and not himself is an argument against the creep factor. But who or what stopped him when I was ready to suck him off? He heard something in the house.
Does he have a roommate? Secret girlfriend? Housekeeper? Pool boy?
Even though I didn't enjoy either of my early experiences with men, I was so ready to blow Jackson's mind. My mouth watered to taste his cock, to pleasure him like a porn star.