by Anise Storm
Walking back into the kitchen, she picked up the rapidly cooling microwave dinner and tossed it into the trash. She opted for some wine instead and reached for the bottle of cheap red stuff she’d picked up the previous night. Hannah was still upset over the news article and the barrage of questioning she had been subjected to earlier, so she didn’t even bother with the pretense of a glass. She uncorked the bottle then brought it to her mouth to take a large swallow. The swill tasted bad, like she felt, but she took another sip, hoping the alcohol would at least help her to sleep.
After a few more drinks, she realized it wasn’t going to help. She put the cork back in, placed the bottle into the refrigerator then decided to do what she’d been doing the last few nights—shower then take a sleeping pill, in hopes it would work.
Thankfully, her insomnia and current state of depression hadn’t affected her work in too much of a negative fashion. But the longer the investigation went on, the more likely it would begin to degrade her performance. Her position at Tucker International was all she had at the moment. Everyone and everything in her life was gone. “I’m back to square one with no one but me, myself and I.”
Hannah walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom. It still seemed a bit surreal to her that she was here in Chicago and in a posh place like the corporate apartment Brian had set her up in. The building and the unit itself had many amenities, but even though it was very luxurious, it still couldn’t match the penthouse she had recently shared with Finley Wetherall.
Hell, if I were being honest, I should’ve known better than to ever go to London in the first place.
How much different would her life have been if she’d stayed in Atlanta with Thaddeus after he’d arrived at the airport, confessing his love? That word ‘love’ had her shaking her head. Thaddeus didn’t know the concept of love, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been so quick to assume the worst about her, either.
Chapter Eighteen
After taking a quick shower, Hannah settled into bed, this time to watch a movie instead of the news, not wanting to see a repeat of the earlier story about Thaddeus. She flipped disinterestedly through the channels but didn’t really find anything she wanted to see. Finally, she turned the damned thing off and lay there in her bed.
Hannah wasn’t sure how long she’d stared at the ceiling before she sat back up and grabbed her laptop from the table beside the bed. Why she was torturing herself was anyone’s guess, but she pulled up the search engine and typed in ‘Thaddeus Remington’. Sure enough, the results came pouring in, mostly about him and the model.
It wasn’t initially clear to her how much Brenda Cole reminded her of Carolina Winston until she took a really good look at the woman. Beside the earlier photo the news station had showed, many others were there of the two of them. One picture of the couple trying to avoid the paparazzi while they moved through what looked to her to be the airport in Atlanta caught her eye. Thaddeus had the blonde tucked under his arm with his large hand shielding her face from view. ‘Eyes up front, sweetheart,’ he most likely would say to her while he guided her toward their gate.
For a few seconds, Hannah actually pictured herself in his arms instead. ‘But everyone is looking at us, Sir,’ she would say, before he would growl in displeasure.
‘Let everyone fucking stare. They can see all this, but after we reach my plane, the only one who’ll see you is me.’ Thaddeus never missed an opportunity to throw in something sexual and, as if she were actually there, Hannah shivered.
The two would make their way to the hangar where his private jet was located. Once they were onboard, Thaddeus would grin at her, much like he had in the broadcast earlier. With his intentions known, every promise his smile held would come to fruition.
Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her bed, imagining his hands on her while he pulled her shirt up then over, her head. She moaned, knowing what would come next. The rest of her clothing would end up in a pile by their feet. She set the laptop aside, not wanting to interrupt the scene playing in her head.
‘The cameras…the lights…none of that matters now, sweetheart. Fuck the rest of the world. You’re here with me.’ His voice would drop, then he’d finally lean in, nipping at her neck and shoulder. He would move his large hand to the back of her head and he’d pull her closer. After he pressed his lips to hers, Thaddeus wouldn’t let up his seduction until he had her agreeing to anything and everything to remain in his arms.
Lying back against the mound of pillows, she’d feel his body follow, covering her like a glove. He’d be undressed. Hannah would part her thighs, and he’d settle between them.
“Oh, God,” she moaned softly.
Everything was so vivid that Hannah swore he was actually there in the room with her. Not wanting to dwell on the fact he wasn’t and she was all alone, she moved her hand down to the area where he was currently torturing her with his tongue in her fantasy. It wasn’t the same, but she didn’t care.
She slid two fingers into her slit, running them from the entrance of her pussy to her clit. Hannah was already wet, so she moved her fingers easily back and forth before she finally slipped them inside her. Another low cry came from her as she started to thrust her fingers in and out, much like the man in her dreams would.
Her body’s reaction to his touch—or, in this case, imagined touch—was almost instantaneous.
‘You’re always so responsive, Hannah. This pussy knows it’s mine,’ he would tell her. And there was no argument and there would certainly not be any now.
His hands…his tongue…his lips. She felt them everywhere, and it made the ache inside only grow deeper. She squirmed then added a third finger. His were much larger than hers but she made do. She increased the speed. In minutes, her walls clamped down around them.
“So close,” she whimpered, mostly in frustration. It was obvious she needed help to get herself off. Without opening her eyes, she rolled over to the left and felt around for the drawer handle with her free hand. After pulling it open, she grabbed her trusty vibrator.
‘I’m going to fuck you now,’ Thaddeus rasped. He replaced his fingers with his dick, and she did the same with her toy. ‘I’m going to sink so deep inside of you, taking you so hard and fast your entire body will shake. Tremble for me, Hannah.’
The request wasn’t a difficult one to oblige. She fucked herself with the toy much like he would with his cock, and her need to climax grew stronger. Thaddeus was a Dominant, so she’d never dream of coming without his permission.
“Please,” she gasped, only to be greeted by silence.
Thaddeus had once told her how much her begging turned him on. From that night on, Hannah had made sure to do so often. Tonight would be no exception.
“Please, Sir.” Again, all she heard was silence. She couldn’t be ready yet. Instinctively, he would know, which was why he prolonged the sensual torment seemingly forever.
Turning the vibrator on, she pressed the rubber ears of the rabbit against her clit. The vibrations tickled her sensitive flesh and had her arching off the bed. She parted her lips, and her pleas were soundless while she fucked herself harder.
Then, on cue, she heard the single word now and she cried his name. “Th-Thaddeus.” His name slipped so easily from her, but then again, it always had. Hannah shook with each small aftershock until, finally, she removed the toy and tossed it to her side.
Hannah was panting, and she tried desperately to catch her breath. Did Brenda Cole feel the same way? She faded from the picture in her head, and another woman appeared beneath his body. While she watched him touch the model in all the ways he used to touch her, a few tears fell. When he groaned while he found his own pleasure in another woman’s body, she opened her eyes.
“I’m so pathetic,” she said, stating the obvious. Here she was getting off on the memory of a man who wished her in jail. Thaddeus Remington wanted her just like Finley Wetherall did, which at this point, was not at all. Both men believed her to be a spy, c
apable of actual corporate espionage. Despite the fact all the evidence pointed to her, they should’ve known her better.
She had no one on her side at the moment. Hannah’s life was sinking faster than the Titanic, and no one would be throwing her a life raft or even a life preserver. If she wanted to get out of this predicament, she could only count on the one person she had—herself.
First thing in the morning Hannah would continue poking around at work to see what else she could find. There had to be a missing link somewhere, and she hoped to God she could find it before it was too late.
The truth wouldn’t change anything between her and either Thaddeus Remington or Finley Wetherall, but it would ensure she didn’t go to jail for however long for something she hadn’t done. Her freedom was all she had to hold on to. Hannah refused to relinquish it while waiting on knights in shining armor to save the day. The two men she loved were the furthest things from princes, more closely resembling devils at this time, and she was not one of those storybook heroines who would be saved by them in the last chapter.
No, she was determined to save herself, and only then would she be able to move on with her life. Empty as it appeared to be right now, it would be over completely if she spent the foreseeable future rotting away in prison. She was reminded of a familiar saying. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. For her, it would be, because she was finally ready to take back what was left of hers.
Chapter Nineteen
As she’d vowed the night before, Hannah arrived at work about an hour earlier than usual. Ordinarily, she’d get there with about ten minutes to spare prior to her coworkers’ arrivals. Most days, she had hardly any time to do anything more than turn on the coffee machine before Derek would come walking in.
This morning, she had purposely showed up with enough time to look through his computer. She had learned her boss’ network logon the same way she had Finley’s passcode to his briefcase and playroom.
As she slipped into his office, she was too scared to turn on any of the lights. Using her cell phone, she lit her way to his desk then sat down in the chair. She turned the phone’s glow toward the keyboard and hoped she remembered every letter and number to his password. Her fingers flew over the keys. When she hit Enter, dismay filled her. It said ‘Invalid logon. Two attempts remaining’.
“Fuck,” she said, then tried to refocus. Maybe her memorization skills were not up to par due to her exhausted state. Trying it again, she typed what she’d recalled and hit Enter again. ‘Invalid logon. One attempt remaining’.
This was not good. Nibbling nervously on her bottom lip, she thought about the consequences of what would happen if she tried again and failed. If the third attempt was unsuccessful, she would essentially freeze his account. Derek would have to call the IT department, but even before that, he would know someone had tried to access his computer. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who that person was. While he’d been very understanding of the feds hanging around and questioning her throughout the day, any goodwill would be lost. In addition, she would also more than likely be fired, which would end any chance she had of trying to find the person who was setting her up.
It no longer seemed to be a coincidence to her. As she had lain in her bed the night before, she’d made a vow that she’d do whatever she had to in order to clear her name. Sometimes you have to take chances. With the thought planted firmly in her head, Hannah angled her phone to get a closer look at the keys. Realizing the caps lock had been on the whole time, she slapped her forehead.
“That’s why it didn’t work,” she said.
Or at least she hoped that was why. Her fingers were shaking even more now, but she slowly hit each one then held her breath and she hit the Enter key. The screen flashed and she watched it go straight to Derek’s home page. The light from the computer practically illuminated the office, and she scanned the icons for something that might guide her to where she needed to look.
Granted, she should have thought this plan through better. Since she hadn’t, she grabbed the mouse and clicked on the icons she didn’t have on her own workstation. Most seemed to be random things for Tucker International. Of course, with her luck, things wouldn’t be simple at all.
Hannah glanced at her cell phone and saw how much time had passed since she’d entered the office. Derek Hostler would be here soon. Logging off of the system, she slipped out of the office and walked over to her own computer. She turned it on and while it powered up, she moved to the coffeemaker. She had just finished brewing the pot when she heard approaching footsteps.
“Good morning, Miss Brinkley,” Derek said, then smiled at her. “You’re here early this morning.”
How did he know that she was here earlier than her normal routine? Did he just guess she was? Either way, she had to play it cool. Keeping her voice from shaking, she smiled brightly. “With the forecast from yesterday, I wanted to allow more time to get here.”
“Yes, we didn’t get nearly the haul they predicted, but the day is still early,” he responded, then walked toward his office. “Just be glad you don’t have to shovel the wet stuff like a lot of us do.” Then he disappeared inside. She almost expected him to come right back, and her stomach churned while she waited for the inevitable.
A few minutes passed and he made no indication he’d discovered what she’d done, so she walked back to her desk and took a seat. She breathed deeply then pulled up the Lincoln proposal. She’d needed to make sure all necessary signatures were there before she submitted the document.
A feeling of dread washed over her. She’d once enjoyed work like this immensely. Ever since the accusations had started flying around about her possible involvement in some corporate espionage scheme, all the pride she had once found had been erased. It was even worse now because she had hoped to find something to exonerate her but had found nothing instead. She was no closer to clearing her name now than she had been yesterday.
She sighed then heard more footsteps. Praying it wasn’t more feds here to interrogate her, she slowly focused and saw two familiar faces round the corner.
“Hannah, my dear. You look terrible,” Brian Silverstein remarked when he entered the office. Surely he had heard about the accusations against her. It was even more upsetting that he now understood why she had needed to leave London so suddenly.
Hannah had expected him to lecture her at the least, but he turned toward Stanley Pritchard, who peered at her with a certain smugness. If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn he had something to do with it. In fact, she had even insinuated so during the various rounds of questioning. Much to her chagrin, the investigators had told her he’d been cleared. How someone so slimy could be innocent of anything while she was regarded as some criminal was still mind-boggling to her.
She refused to let him know how miserable she was. Hannah wouldn’t give Stanley the satisfaction, nor did she want to upset Brian. “I’m fine. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Brian flashed an apologetic expression at her then went inside Derek’s office. Stanley stayed behind, and she turned back to her work. Hannah could feel the creep’s eyes on her, almost as if he were undressing her. She started to work on the Lincoln file until he moved closer.
“I’ve heard about the trouble you’re in, young lady. There are options, you know,” he said and, thinking perhaps she’d misjudged him completely, Hannah glanced up at him with a cautiously optimistic expression.
Everything was for naught, though, when he smirked at her.
“W-What are you talking about?” Hannah didn’t even want to know what put that expression on his face, but she didn’t really think she had much of a choice.
“The best thing you can do for yourself and Tucker International is to accept your wrongdoing and make a plea with the prosecutor. A pretty little thing like yourself wouldn’t get more than a few years. With good behavior, maybe you’d be free in even less time.”
“Why would I do
that?” Hannah asked while she gazed pointedly at him. “I did nothing wrong. My personal relationships with either man had no bearing on my job duties here at Tucker International.”
“For someone so intelligent,” he started in, “you’re acting very stupid right now. They’ve found your signatures on documents, and you’re the only one in the entire company who has ever had access to confidential information at both Remington Industries and Wetherall Communications.”
“There has to be something else the investigators are missing,” she told him, her irritation growing. One of these days she would take down this cocky asshole. Finally, she added, “And I’d honestly prefer to not talk about this with you, because it isn’t any of your business. Unless you have a way to help me, I’m not discussing this with you further.” She had venom in her tone.
She turned and started to type, growing even more annoyed that he remained at her desk. Stanley was starting to piss her off. The man was a jerk whose close proximity gave her the chills. When he leaned down to speak to her again, she felt helpless to stop him.
“I can make this all better for you, Hannah. Cop a plea, then serve a few months in jail. After you get out, I’ll set you up in a house wherever you want, and you’ll never have to do this menial crap again. Of course, there is one stipulation.”
She couldn’t wait to hear what that was. “And what would it be?”
He chuckled and the sound grated on her nerves. She remained cool and collected while she waited on his response. “I would require certain services from you while I’m in town. I’m sure you can guess what I mean.”
She felt the color drain from her cheeks. What he was proposing would be worse than jail. She’d rather take her chances there, if that was the only option. She was about to put him in his place when Brian exited Derek’s office and called to his partner.
