Part 18 (1/2)
”No, I want to be awake when you leave this time.”
”I'll be back.” I take a deep breath. ”Maybe not for a few days. A new case has come up at work and I don't know what's going to happen exactly. If I disappear, that's why.” I take another deep breath, realizing that no matter what Wilson finds, I need to make contact with the FBI closest to Lively. Find out what they know and where they might be at on an investigation. Please let there be an open case. ”Might need to go to Miami. But soon.”
She pours herself a cup and slowly turns in my arms. She's wearing that tank top and those tiny shorts I found her in last night, and they're hot. Everything about her is hot. Her curvy legs, from her long, sculpted calves to her soft thighs that feel so f.u.c.king good around my head. Her belly. Her waist and hips, curvy and tight in all the right places. Her t.i.ts, swinging free in this tank that I can totally see her nipples through. Driving me crazy already.
And her pretty face. But right now, her lips are twisted in worry, and her eyes...I like the way her eyes turn into happy half-moons when she laughs and widen when she has a dirty thought. I like everything about her eyes except the way her gaze cuts straight through my bulls.h.i.+t. Like it's doing right now.
”Miami?”
”Yep.” This is one of those things I don't want her to know about, but thanks to that reporter, I can see her putting two and two together.
”Awfully close to the Caribbean. Is this a business trip?”
”I'm not leaving the country. And the rest isn't for good girls to know.” I say it softly, but there's enough steel in my voice, she should take the hint.
Of course she doesn't, at first. My girl isn't a pushover. f.u.c.k me. But she just stares at me, knowing enough to be wary, before brus.h.i.+ng past me and heading for the living room s.p.a.ce. Knitting basket. Stripper pole. And in a large wooden armoire, a small TV. She turns it on and CNN immediately appears onscreen, which surprises me.
I go to the bedroom long enough to pull on my boxer briefs, then join her on the couch. ”News before six in the morning? Black coffee? There are many layers to the Hailey onion.” I play with her hair while she ignores me, her eyes glued to the stock ticker at the bottom of the screen. ”Do you trade?”
She nods, her lips moving unconsciously.
Is it weird that I'm getting half hard at the thought of Hailey being a money wizard? It's not surprising, given her genes, but her very public rejection of the business world her family is steeped in on both sides makes me wonder...things. All sorts of things I want to know about this woman.
We finish our coffee in silence as she watches the numbers and I watch the B-roll behind a story on a riot in Cairo, then an interview with someone from the United Nations. It's all just noise, distracting the world from the real s.h.i.+t going down behind the scenes that never makes it to news desks, but it's good to know what everyone else is being told.
”Do you want another cup?” I kiss her bare shoulder, my few-days-of-stubble catching on her smooth-as-silk skin. ”I should shave before I come over next time.”
She whirls around, our heads almost cras.h.i.+ng into each other. ”Don't you dare.” She licks her lips and glances at my jaw. ”I like it rough.”
Jesus Christ. How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to leave for work when she says s.h.i.+t like that? ”I bet you do.”
Her eyes go wide at the rough note in my voice. Really rough. G.o.d, I'll never get enough of her.
I grab both mugs and shove them on the coffee table before hauling her into my lap. ”Are you done watching that stuff?”
She nods, and I make the most of the next twenty minutes, first on the couch, then in her shower.
It barely scratches the surface of my itch for her.
- - Ellie is setting a tray of fruit in the middle of the conference table when I arrive.
”Seriously?” It's a good job I scarfed an Egg Mcm.u.f.fin on my way in.
”There are bran m.u.f.fins, too.” She points to the side table where a coffee carafe and the world's tiniest m.u.f.fins sit pertly on a plate.
”We're not girls.”
She rolls her eyes as she walks past me, which I wouldn't catch except she whirls around. ”Speaking of girls, you smell like one.”
”Shut up.”
”That's rude, boss. I'm guessing you don't own vanilla body wash.”
f.u.c.k my life. ”Sure don't.”
”I'm guessing Hailey does.”
”You know, my private life could be left as private, and that would be totally fine.”
She wrinkles her nose as she taps her chin, faux-thinking about that for a second. ”Probably the wrong place to work for that strategy.”
”Get out.” She laughs as she heads for the door. ”And come back with bacon.”
”I like her!” she hollers as she hits the stairs, heading back to her desk.
That makes two of us.
Right on cue, Jason appears. ”I see you didn't take my advice.”
”I don't remember hearing anything other than sleep on it'. I did that. I want to go to Miami.”
He gives me a look of genuine surprise. ”Oh?”
”And meet with the local FBI there.”
”Oh.” He shakes his head. ”PRISM is concerned the Feds won't move quickly enough.”
”Meet with, and help them find what they need quickly. Maybe in a way that forces their hand.”
”I like the sound of that better.” He leans over the table. ”Melon. Yum. Let's see what Wilson says.”
”About what?” Our ninja hacker strolls in just as he hears his name. He's wearing yesterday's t-s.h.i.+rt and jeans and his hair is standing on end-I'm guessing he never left last night. The lack of sleep has clearly futzed with his testosterone levels because he too gets excited about the melon, grabbing three pieces before he flops into a chair. ”Nice fruit tray. Good idea.”
”Never mind about the d.a.m.n fruit. We need something to shut down Lively this weekend. Before Morgan Reid goes there. Before...” I sigh. No, that's not right. ”Or maybe at the same time. Jesus. Maybe I need to step away from this, I'm not objective anymore.”
”Finally. I'm glad you see that.” Jason grabs a strawberry and points it at me. ”Now we can use that power for good instead of evil.”
”I'm not following.” I scowl at him before turning to pour myself a cup of coffee and grab a teensy-a.s.s m.u.f.fin. I start pacing back and forth as I consume both. ”I don't have enough distance from this to make the hard decisions.”
”Or maybe you've finally found something to believe in and now you can fight for what you feel is right.” Jason and I both swivel our heads to look at Wilson, who yawns. ”What? Aren't we the good guys, deep down inside?”
I'm really not sure anymore.
”Listen,” Wilson says, scrubbing his hand through his hair. ”I know I'm the last person in the world to talk about doing the right thing, but there are young women, right now, trapped in a s.e.x slave ring for dirty motherf.u.c.kers who are too powerful to be taken down by conventional law enforcement. And we're sitting on our hands because the timing has to be just right.”
”Well, it does,” Jason said drily. ”If we take things into our own hands and take out the wrong peg at the wrong time, it could spell disaster on an international event kind of level.”