Corporate Services Bundle

by JC Hay

  The two men from CorpServ glanced at her as Elise tugged the door open. “You’re early.”

  When they’d hired her, they’d introduced themselves as Johnson and Medea, without ever bothering to delineate which was which. It didn’t matter. They were interchangeable—plastic surgery had given them all the same look of non-threatening multiculturalism. She had arbitrarily picked one to be Johnson, but only because his English had too much of a Brooklyn accent to be an affectation.

  She smiled and raised the pistol so it was visible. “We’re all early, it seems. So let’s talk about my money.”

  Johnson smiled with all the emotion of a centipede, his perfect teeth reflecting the pale fluorescents in the ceiling. “The gun’s hardly necessary. Where is Zaahir’s personal assistant?”

  God damn them. They’d known about Na’im and hadn’t warned her. Like it was some kind of damned loyalty test. She fought the urge to shoot Johnson in the knee. “I have the files. That’s all I had been instructed to recover.”

  Johnson’s smile faded as Medea took over the conversation. “But you recovered them from Ms. Zaahir’s apartment?”

  “I sure as hell didn’t find them in a dumpster. Of course I got them from her apartment.”

  He smiled again, and the chilly satisfaction of the expression turned her blood to ice. “Excellent.” He touched one finger to the angle of his jaw. “Move in.”

  Light flooded in through the front windows of the shawarma shop. The heavy thwup-thwup of corporate gyrocopters added thunder to sudden flash, while her eyes tried to compensate. An amplified voice reverberated in her bones as it filled the small space. “You are under arrest for the murder of Jalila Zaahir. Drop your weapon and lay on the floor until you can be restrained. Failure to comply will be met with lethal force.”

  Elise gave in to impulse and shot Johnson through the knee before running for the kitchen door. As soon as she’d turned, gunfire from the street turned the window into a maelstrom of shattering glass.

  Na’im started across the street as soon as the first cruiser pulled up. He’d seen it too many times to miss the arrowed-Z logo of Zaahir Amalgamated’s corporate security. At Jalila’s side, he’d learned enough about the underside of the corporate world to know Corporate Services didn’t sell out their agents except when a major player had their feet to the fire.

  I could just run. She left expecting me to run. He knew what Elise’s future would look like after she’d been sold out. Tough as she was, a fugitive from the corporations could count their time in months, not years.

  A gunshot made up his mind. He looked up as a hail of gunfire from the police cruisers splintered the window of the shop. Na’im ran for the alleyway behind the shawarma shop. Half-broken crates and rotting vegetables filled the narrow space, propped up against a stinking grease-disposal unit. His stomach hitched at the reek—a far cry from the litter-free streets of the secured zone.

  He fought past the urge to retch and yanked open the rear door to the restaurant. It took less than a second for his brain to process everything, and it still felt too long. The slowly spinning roaster of cooking meat. The carving knife next to it. Elise’s defensive posture. The way her eyes opened wide in surprise as she registered his presence. The huge, vat-grown muscle of the man that stood between them. The equally huge blade he carried in his hand. Without thinking, Na’im grabbed the carving knife from the kitchen counter and threw it at the back of the man’s knee.

  The blade sailed true and struck him right below the hollow. The man bellowed a curse as his leg buckled and he stumbled forward. Elise charged and planted her foot on the counter for leverage as she brought the other around to meet the giant’s nose. Blood exploded from his face as she swung around behind him and used her weight to bring him the rest of the way down. She grabbed him by the hair and smashed his head into the tile then reached under the sink and recovered her pistol.

  The sight of the weapon spurred Na’im into action. He tugged her off the giant. “Come on! Now!”

  She looked at him, clearly confused. “But—”

  “No buts! You haven’t killed anyone yet. Don’t start now!” While corporate law was fairly lenient about the use of violence, Dubai’s law was less gray. Without the benefit of Corporate Services lawyers defending her, Dubai’s law would be the one that mattered.

  He tugged again and she followed him into the alley. Two security officers moved to block the alley mouth. She lifted her pistol and fired. One of the guards screamed and clutched his wounded hand to his chest as his pistol clattered to the asphalt. The second looked at his comrade and dropped his pistol before she could fire again.

  Both stepped out of the way as they ran past.

  At the alley mouth, he turned further into the warren of switchbacks. It wasn’t his old neighborhood, but the city had built the worker housing areas on similar plans. Without knowing their destination, he ran and hoped she could follow. After another five blocks, she took over, leading them through a series of blind alleys before pausing.

  His lungs burned from the run despite the upgrades Jalila had made to his endurance. Sweat coated his skin, cooling in the morning air. Elise looked far better for the wear. Her only concession to the exertion was in her posture, bent over with her forearms braced across her knees. He opened his mouth to say something and she held up a hand for silence.

  She stood up after a moment. “They’re not coming. At least not yet.”

  Na’im closed his eyes and tried to listen as well. His mind turned every creak and whir into the sound of approaching corporate gunships. He couldn’t figure out how she knew which sounds were safe and which indicated danger. “Are you sure?”

  “For the moment. I’ve got a bolthole not far from here. Let’s go.” His heart sank as she turned and took off at a jog.

  He forced himself to catch up with her. “Are you okay? Did they hit you?” He spotted blood on her cheek. Hers? Or did it belong to the man she’d kneed? The man I stabbed. The thought made his stomach yaw suddenly and he stumbled. He caught himself on the brick wall.

  She stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m doing better than you at the moment. Thanks to you coming through the door at the perfect time. Where’d you learn to throw like that?”

  “I didn’t. Learn, I mean. I just did what seemed right. The rest was beginner’s luck.” He was glad he hadn’t eaten, afraid his recovering nerves would have emptied his stomach onto the pavement and ruined her gratitude.

  She looked over at him, gray eyes hard and narrow. “Hell of a shot for beginner’s luck.”

  He held out one shaking hand, panting from the exertion. “Does this look like the response of a trained blade fighter to you?”

  Elise chuckled and shook her head. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but what were you thinking? Why didn’t you leave when I gave you the chance?”

  “I saw Zaahir cops show up on the street. I couldn’t imagine they’d been called in for any reason but to arrest you for Jalila’s murder. Call it a flaw of conscience, but I can’t stand a double cross.”

  “But what if I did it?”

  “You didn’t.” As soon as he’d said the words, he realized the truth of it. “You could have killed the two Corporate Services agents in the restaurant with you, or the two cops in the alley, but you didn’t. You walked away from shooting the giant in the kitchen. You didn’t even kill your boyfriend, and he betrayed you. You don’t like killing.”

  She turned and started to walk, but not before he saw the discomfort in her eyes. She clearly didn’t realize how much he could read of her personality. After two steps, she whispered, “I shot one of the Corporate Services agents in the knee.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, well, he probably deserved it.”

  She led the way into a tiny alley, barely big enough for them to walk single file. The place he’d shared with his roommates had been in a similar alley. The inverse of Dubai’s glittering coin—people crowded together into single-rooms just to m
ake ends meet. Elise pushed a dumpster out of the way and unlocked a narrow door. “I pay cash for this place. Real cash, not a credit transfer. There shouldn’t be any record of it.”

  He nodded, impressed but not surprised. He doubted the landlord kept any record of the place either, which meant the landlord didn’t have to worry about things like health code violations, or renter’s safety.

  She opened the door and gestured for him to head inside. Before closing the door, she pulled the dumpster into place. Then she turned and grabbed him in a fierce hug that threatened to crush his ribs. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Five

  H

  is warmth soaked into her, chasing away the chill that followed an adrenaline rush. Elise focused on his masculine scent, heightened by their run, strong but not unpleasant. His heart thudded beneath her ear in a steady rhythm that provided a stark contrast to her rapid-fire pulse. The hug had gone on too long, she realized, and he hadn’t responded. Fire blossomed in her cheeks. She started to release him and step away.

  Na’im’s arms encircled her, careful, as though afraid to break her. She tried not to laugh at the idea. Ty had never worried about hurting her. But he’d never treasured her either, and that was how she felt now. Not just wanted—Ty’s needs had always been obvious—but cared for. She made the mistake of looking up into the chestnut warmth of Na’im’s eyes, and saw the worry there. She saw desire too, though he tried to hide it, and felt an answering heaviness in her breasts and belly at the thought.

  “You shouldn’t have come after me. I’m not good for you.”

  He smiled and traced his thumb along the curve of her eyebrow, his fingers resting against her cheek. “You’re welcome. And I’d like to think I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

  Elise held her breath, feeling the heat radiate out from his touch. She craved more, even though her brain screamed what a bad idea that would be. “I mean it. I’m really bad at relationships.”

  His fingers traced the curve of her ear, and she fought to keep from purring in desire. His hands were expert, knowing the exact place and pressure to touch. She could imagine their deft skill on her other parts. “Is that what this is? I thought we were two people with a little left-over adrenaline.”

  She growled and slid up onto tiptoe, her fingers tangling in the rough shag at the back of his skull to pull his mouth to hers. Hunger rumbled deep in his chest as he responded. His hands slid down to cup her ass, supporting her even as they pressed her against him. She nipped at his lower lip, tugged experimentally. He responded immediately, lifting her up until her feet barely touched the floor.

  Their kiss broke as the sensation forced a trickle of wordless laughter out of her, and she opened her eyes to see him smiling. She felt suddenly self-conscious, leaned away from him and put her weight on the ground. Back in the world, where I belong.

  His brow creased as concern wrinkled around his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just— It’s not right. I’m not right.” I’m not paying you. You’re twenty-four hours out of finding your boss-slash-lover murdered. There was no shortage of reasons why it was wrong. She turned away from him and folded her arms around herself.

  He put his hand on her shoulder, gentle comfort and warmth. She expected him to push for more, but he didn’t. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “You really expected me to leave you there.”

  “It’s what I would have done.” Ty would have, certainly.

  “No, you wouldn’t have. If you were that sort of person, you would never have given me the opportunity in the first place.” He took a deep breath, and she imagined the look on his face, the soft concern in his eyes.

  She forced herself not to turn around to see it.

  “Jalila never gave me a choice, even in the beginning. The merest taste of her kind of luxury when you’re struggling for a meal? That’s no choice at all.”

  “And you used your newfound freedom to come find your kidnapper.”

  “Like I said, if you were half as cold as you like to say you are, you’d never have given me the chance. And once I had it, I couldn’t just leave you to be arrested. Or worse.”

  She couldn’t miss the note of worry in his voice, as though she mattered so much that her death bothered him. She turned and caught his hand in hers, pressed her lips to the backs of his knuckles. His hands were strong—worker’s hands, even if his life of luxury had softened the calluses from them.

  He traced her cheek with his fingers, followed the bow of her lip. She felt him shift closer and opened an eye to see him leaning in, mouth parted just enough to promise. She laid a finger across his lips. “Before I let you kiss me again, did you mean it? Two people with leftover adrenaline?” It couldn’t mean more. If it was casual, he couldn’t hurt her later.

  He studied her a moment, then nodded. “No strings. No regrets.”

  Elise let out her breath in relief. “No regrets.”

  He stepped closer and she tangled a hand in his hair and dragged his mouth to hers, desperate to lose herself in the taste of him. He responded eagerly, claiming her mouth like a prize as he pulled her to him. His shoulder was tight beneath her palm, powerful but without the over-development so many body worshippers preferred. Just strong, naturally masculine. Her entire being came alive, as though he created a current that coursed across her skin. She growled as his teeth raked against her neck, her fist using his hair to yank him closer.

  She needed more. Now. The scream in her core was insistent, her nerves already winding into a tight coil that needed release. Elise pulled in a quick breath and murmured quickly, “Bed. Far corner.” Before she could add anything else, he crushed her against him, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to take possession of her senses. Further thought sped away in a rush as she moaned against him. He balanced her feet atop his and walked her backward across the small single-room flat.

  She clutched his shoulders as they moved, unwilling to break contact with him even for an instant and lose her nerve. Touching him made the rest of the world rush into the background. She slipped her mouth off his and nipped at his exposed throat. He shivered in response.

  He drew in a shuddering breath. “No fair. If I have to wait ’til we get there, so do you.”

  Elise smiled against his pulse point. “My bed, my rules. You’ll just have to hurry.” She grazed her teeth along his skin again, breathing in the warm, faintly spicy smell of his skin. Her hands slid along his hips and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt.

  Her calves bumped against the edge of the bed, and she smiled. “We’re here.”

  “About damn time.” His eyes sparkled playfully, as he lowered her to the mattress. “I had to resist running those last few steps.”

  His smile sent a flood of warmth through her, and she leaned forward to slide her hands under his shirt. She resisted the urge to rip the thin cotton, just to reveal him more quickly. After all, he only has the one shirt. Her hands found his skin as smooth as she remembered it, soft but rigid with muscle. She tugged up the edge of his shirt and he took the hint and pulled it the rest of the way off.

  Elise allowed herself a moment to drink him in. Delicious, she’d called him when he stood on the observation platform, and in the privacy of her flat it certainly held true. Even knowing what he looked like, having him to herself made it more intimate and fired her desire into an inferno.

  Speaking of desires... She traced her fingers over his abs with a hungry smile, before flattening her palm against the firm evidence of his arousal. Even through his jeans, the heat of him felt like it would burn her palm. So did the way he groaned in response and pressed into her hand. She stroked along his length, drawing another moan of desire from him.

  His responses captivated her as much as his intensity, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. She barely stifled a whimper as she pulled her hands away from him and leaned back to rest on her elbows. “Okay, my turn.”

  Na’im let out a slow breath, trying to control the fire that
boiled through his veins. Something about Elise—her forwardness, her playfulness, the femininity she hid behind a tough exterior—stirred him in ways to which Jalila had never come close. He drank in the sight of her, saw the shadowed lust in her eyes as she watched him, and another shiver of desire chased its way along his spine to settle into his straining cock.

  He pressed two fingers to the molecular zipper of her bodysuit. “Your wish is my command.” He dragged his fingers down her side, watching as the fabric unzipped on an atomic level, opening without fasteners and revealing her body one delicious inch at a time.

  She quirked one eyebrow at him, clearly impressed that he knew the trick to opening her suit.

  He smiled. “Zaahir held the patent on the technology, before it went open source last year.” Before she could ask more, he slipped his hand into the opening to cup her breast.

  She arched her back, pressing up against his palm with a soft moan of delight.

  The sound spurred him on even more than the heat of her touch had. His thumb stroked the peak of her breast, teasing the nipple into tautness before he slid open the suit and replaced it with his mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he gripped her nipple with his teeth, then flicked his tongue across the tip.

  She writhed, pulling him with her as she stretched out on the narrow bed. Her thigh rubbed against his shaft, and he bit just hard enough to make her gasp in delight. He shifted his weight up onto one arm and slid her top open farther. Elise pulled her arms out and lifted her hips so she could kick the rest of the tight garment to the floor. She smiled at him, “Sorry. The suit needed to go away.”

  He felt a grin spread over his face, and rested his palm on her stomach. “You’ll get no complaint out of me. I couldn’t agree more.”

  She squeezed his cock through the vintage denim. “These need to go too.”

  Na’im fought the urge to grind himself against her hand. His nerves—custom tweaked to be sensitive—were on fire with need. “I thought you said it was your turn.” He slid his hand along her belly, amused by the way it trembled under his touch. He couldn’t believe she was nervous, hadn’t thought she could be capable of it. His fingers dipped into the vee of her thighs, slipped easily into the heat of her core.