To Trick a Hacker: Women of Purgatory 3

by India Kells

  “Maybe he didn’t know what it really was?”

  “But he printed pages of the document, and taunted Morton of Counterterrorism with it. There was only one step before he would have used it, published it, copied it. He did nothing of that sort. Why?”

  Owen rubbed the back of his neck, a crease deepening between his eyes. “I can see two reasons. One, he’s a stupid hacker. Or two, the file was not what he was after.”

  “He made sure I knew he had accessed it by stapling that and other incriminating documents all over Dee. For what? To prove he was better than me? Point proven.”

  “No. I believe it was to smoke you out. To take out as many routes of escape as possible, and launch the authorities after you. Keeping you on your toes, focusing on other things than him. Remember what he said on the phone about shedding your past.”

  “And destroying my allies at the same time. He had observed me, my methods, my people, my work. His attacks are precise. But again, why? He’s gone through a lot of trouble for a lowly, traumatized ex-cop. I own no fortune, and he’s not blackmailing me. At least not yet. Although he said he was preparing me for something. It makes no sense.”

  Pushing himself up, Owen shook his head. “Your amazing skills, only that would make a great exchange for your peace of mind. But I suspect you wouldn’t offer him your services, at any price.”

  Her voice was sharp as a knife when she answered. “On that you’re right.”

  “If I were after you, a woman strong and capable, not completely out of powerful friends, I would shut out all your possibilities. One by one. Corner you. Find your weak spot and exploit it until you finally caved in. Until you came to me begging. That’s what he probably meant.”

  Dylan considered his hypothesis and hoped he was wrong. That she wouldn’t have stumbled on someone even more deranged than Knudson.

  “You have a fascinating, and very twisted mind, Mr. Sorenson.”

  “It’s probably because I’m starving. You hungry? I think someone walked out with the rest of our cold pizza. I can order something. I wouldn’t recommend checking the fridge in the break room, I can’t remember the last time that thing got cleaned.”

  Dylan wrinkled her nose at the image. “I’m not hungry. I just wanted to stretch my legs and look at something else than my screen before my eyes start to bleed.”

  Owen leaned back on his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. “Happy to know you like looking at me.”

  Dylan swallowed, her mind set to try again. She rounded the table and he swiveled his chair to face her. Even sitting, the man looked like a predator, braced for attack. But the wolf drew a surprised breath when she straddled his thighs to sit, her arms winding around his neck, his lips a hair’s breath from her lips. His hands were still gripping the armrests.

  “You’re vibrating.”

  Dylan blinked, his words making no sense. Owen arched an eyebrow and looked at the table. Her cell phone.

  “Very funny, Sorenson.”

  “Hey! I could have ignored it. And funny is not the word I would use for being interrupted, especially since you were making a move on me.”

  Dylan grabbed her phone put it on speaker phone. “Yeah?”

  Beatrice’s voice was clipped and to the point when she stated, “We’re being attacked again. I’m about to shut down the server, but I wanted to tell you first.”

  “Wait!” Dylan leapt to her computer and started setting up her triggers. If the creep was trying to invade Purgatory once more, she would be damned not trying to find where he was located. Or what he wanted.

  “Don’t shut it down yet, Bea. I’m on it. I need to find a trace … I need to find out where he’s coding from.”

  Beatrice said something in the background. Owen leaned over her shoulder as she tried to take advantage of every second to catch that son of a bitch.

  Her boss spoke to someone in the background before returning to her phone. “Dylan, we can’t keep it out anymore. You know we can’t give him access to our data. There is too much information, sensitive information. This could be a major breach.”

  Dylan didn’t hear her. “I see it. I see it in your system. I’m partially blocking his access. Rerouting his access. Please, please, give me a moment more.”

  Beatrice seemed to hesitate. Dylan cursed. “He’s using the same type of worm as he did before. I recognize him. The worm is unique but I know how to deflect. Don’t shut the server down.”

  More background conversations she ignored. “Dylan, if he recognizes your signature …”

  Owen touched her shoulder. “Could he trace you back here?”

  Dylan bit her lip. “No, he would not be able to find where I am. But what you’re inferring is right, Bea. If he recognizes my style, my digital signature …”

  Owen finished for her. “He would know you’re no longer dead.”

  Dylan didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. After so many failed attempts, shaking the hornet’s nest may be the way to speed things up.

  Suddenly, she saw the digital shadow fade and retreat. “Oh no you don’t!”

  Gritting her teeth, Dylan launched her search and recovery, backtracking through the system while she followed his trace out of Purgatory’s system. It would allow her to later analyze red herrings, and quite possibly focus on more logical and real locations where he could operate from, or use as a stepping stone.

  “Bea, you should be safe, but convert your server into an ivory tower for now.”

  As she switched, her side computer buzzed and she shouted, “Shit, he’s trying to pull me out in the open. Hard.”

  “Any risk he could find our location?”

  Dylan knew Owen wasn’t questioning her capacity to keep his place safe, but the words chaffed nonetheless. “I’ll shut ourselves down if I lose control or if my system detects anything.”

  “Dylan, Louis here can shadow you, trying to find that creep in your system. Just give him your skeleton key.”

  “No, nothing against Louis, but if he appears on my radar, it could scramble up my shield. I can’t risk following the wrong person.”

  And as she spoke, she saw the trap. A kind of flimsy, ethereal form, barely visible, but analyzing her coding. Dylan clenched her teeth. She knew she needed to make a decision—reveal herself or be kept buried. Checking her second screen, she saw the results of her search and disconnected. As she did, she let herself lean against the chair, breathing hard as if she had run a sprint.

  “Dylan?”

  She didn’t answer Beatrice. Instead, she closed her eyes. Owen moved and she felt him kneel beside her, waiting. Bless this man. Instinctively, she extended her hand and touched his arm, sliding her fingers down to grab his hand. His skin was so warm and he flexed before closing his fingers around hers. Another touch that didn’t trigger an attack, there was hope.

  “I couldn’t do it, Bea. I couldn’t let the creep know I was alive. I need more time.”

  Beatrice hummed. “I understand, Dylan. I tend to forget about what you went through and how horrible it must be now …”

  “No. You misunderstand me. As I was tracking his whereabouts, I found his home base. His server address. Let’s keep my resurrection secret a while longer. The creep probably is thinking he had a face off with one of Purgatory’s bad boys anyway. I will work on the data I have and Owen and I will decide what will be our next step. In the meantime, strengthen your firewall and keep your main server isolated. I would avoid going back online for a while, at least until we can zero in our opponent.”

  “Understood. Last piece of advice, Dylan. Morton has corned me a couple of times; he’s trying to get access to Purgatory headquarters. I could stonewall him for now, but take measures so he doesn’t have any grip to get what he wants. He’s not totally convinced that you are dead. You need more time taking care of our psycho before we can focus on that crooked asshole. Reach for me if there is anything. I’m here for you.”

  Dylan smiled and opened her eyes. “Ye
ah, same for you, my friend.”

  Call ended, she returned her attention to Owen, who hadn’t moved a muscle until now. Hands still linked, she turned her head to look at him. His pose seemed relaxed enough, but she knew better—the energy emanating from him was of someone on the prowl. It reverberated into her very hand. And she couldn’t deny that despite sudden fatigue, it wouldn’t take much to jump into the adrenaline rush, too.

  “I have confirmation of the entry point he used. The original server? Guess where it is.”

  Owen arched an eyebrow. “Maison Amaryllis, Dallas, Texas. Have I guessed right? And what it tells me is it’s no coincidence. Either he knows you’re alive and reaching you through my past, or trying to get to me directly. Have I guessed right, again?”

  She liked the playful gleam in his eyes, on his face. He looked so much younger when he was in that mood.

  “Give the man a prize.” And without even thinking, she leaned over and kissed his parting lips.

  It was utopia to think she could keep the connection light. Not with him, not with Owen. Even if he still held his quivering body back, he poured himself into the kiss. As did she. When his tongue gently traced the seam of her lips, asking to be let in, she opened with a moan that echoed his own.

  “Dylan, you have to stop, or I won’t be able to resist touching you for long.”

  Ignoring the tightening of her gut, she turned the chair to face him, tracing her lips to his ear. “Then don’t. Touch me, Owen.”

  His body turned so still, she almost feared he would pull back. A second from pulling away, his voice rumbled. “I will touch you, but on my terms only. That’s when my idea I was telling you about comes into play.”

  Before she could ask him what he was talking about, he put his warm palm over her hand, lacing their fingers together. At her raised brow, he only smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be touching you more than your hand. Soon.”

  Gently, he switched places with her, and once seated, pulled her to straddle his thighs once more before using her own palm to touch her cheek. Realization dawned on her, and she blinked away tears. This warrior had found the loophole of her traumatized mind. Her heart was beating fast when he outlined the contour of her face before following her neck, down to her shoulders. But it wasn’t fear or panic, it was a mixture of surprise and arousal, laced with exhilaration.

  Still straddling his lap, his body heat seeped into her, making her relax even more. His familiar woodsy scent filled her nose and she now took control of her own hand. Owen’s first attempts in guiding her were tentative; she would show a tad more courage to him. And for him. Her hand followed the curve of her breast before squeezing her flesh. He may not have a direct contact, but his pupils dilated, filled with lust, turning the blue irises almost black. He wanted more, she could tell, but still he let her direct the game.

  “Touch me, Owen.”

  “I am, baby. And you’re magnificent, taking my breath away.”

  “No, I mean mirror my touch with your free hand on my body.” To demonstrate, she backtracked to touch her cheek with their joint hands and grabbed his hand from his armrest, before putting it against her feverish cheek.

  His Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed reflexively. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I know it’s kids play for you, maybe not enough—”

  Owen shook his head, his breathing labored. “Baby, I’m close to coming in my pants. You’re killing me here.”

  She winked at him before moving her hand again, emboldened by his words. This time, she circled her ear to the back of her head. It took a moment for Owen to follow suit, but he did, his touch so very light, between a tingle and a caress.

  As Dylan went down her neck to reach her shoulders, she arched, grinding into his erection, and this time he growled, his eyes on her covered breasts, so close, yet out of reach. How could he be so much in control of himself? She wouldn’t have been able to show that much restraint back in the days. Ever.

  Surprisingly, panic didn’t make an instant appearance. She feared it would at some point, but part of her hoped that she would be too far gone, too lost in sensation, surrounded by Owen, to really care about it.

  Her hand touched her collarbone, before grabbing her breast and squeezing. Owen wasn’t far behind, and half a second later, he cupped her other breast, but he was far more gentle and teasing, rubbing his thumb around her sensitized nipple through her shirt, a personal improvisation move. His eyes were locked on his movement, and when he licked his lips, she moaned.

  Something was unleashed between them, and she was damned if she wanted to bring that beast back to yield.

  Chapter 18

  “Continue, baby, you’re turning me on exactly how I like it. You’re undoing me. Yes.”

  Owen’s voice rasped against her senses, making her even bolder. As she let go of her breast to slide against her stomach, Owen reluctantly let it go to follow as instructed. Once on her thigh, her hand, still covered with his, made a detour to pause over his erection. Owen gasped, leaving his hand on her thigh.

  “On that one, you’re on your own, baby.”

  Dylan smiled wickedly, an idea forming in her brain, making her even more needy and wet.

  Owen angled his head. “I like that smile very much. Whatever you have in mind, please, do share, babe.”

  Never leaving his gaze, she started working on the buttons of his pants.

  “Dylan, if you bring out the beast, I might not be able to show restraint in touching you.”

  “That’s why I’m giving you something to play with.”

  Owen frowned, not quite understanding what she was doing. Once unfastened, she pulled on his pants and he helped her by lifting himself up. His hard erection bobbed against his belly as she wrapped her hand around the warm, velvety length.

  Owen hissed through his clenched teeth. “Stop, Dylan.”

  “Do you trust me, Owen?”

  “To come into your hand? That I can fucking guarantee, babe.”

  Getting back on her feet, she let go of him and partly sat on the desk. Owen was about to speak, but no sound came out of him when she started unfastening her own pants. Dylan knew as she pushed them down, he would be able to see some scared skin, but she hoped he would be too turned on to even notice. And by the way his member was pulsating, she probably guessed right.

  Then, before he could react, she slipped her fingers inside of her panties. The body of the man before her bunched, as if preparing to leap, but she shook her head.

  “Indulge me, Owen. Please. I’m desperate to come. Consider it the first step for my recovery.”

  “How many steps are there? I might not be able to get through them all.”

  Dylan smiled at him. And her fingers found their way into her slick, wet heat, making her shiver.

  “Touch yourself, Owen. Come for me. Please.”

  Owen frowned, clearly displeased with her suggestion, until it dawned on him. On what she wanted to do and why. Her first step to regain her confidence, to trust again. A wicked smile returned to his face, as he took himself in hand, and started stroking.

  “I will, baby. Only for you. But not before you have an orgasm, in front of me. Only for me.”

  She nodded hurriedly, making her hand move to his command. She didn’t touch her clit yet; apart from pleasuring herself at the memory of him, it had been a long time. With his attention solely on her and the arousing sight of him masturbating, if she went directly to the point, she would come apart too quickly. Instead, she increased pressure gradually, circling around the sensitive knot, denying herself pleasure to build it even more. God, it had been a while since she felt this height of excitement and desire, sharing with someone. She wanted to close her eyes, to enjoy the growing pleasure, but the man stroking himself hard in front of her, his powerful frame so tense, the hint of tensing muscled under his fully clothed frame, with his focus solely on her, was the greatest turn on of her life.

  Still fully covered, barel
y his thighs showing, it was the most erotic scene she had ever seen. The sound of slick flesh intermingling with speeding breath, and the scent of arousal blurred the mind.

  Dylan panted, torn between looking at his face and his hand. He was so brutal with himself, his strokes punishing in his hand. Sweat formed on his forehead and he was as out of breath as she was. Right here and now, she wished she could be with him, allowing him to touch her, feeling his hands on her skin.

  When thinking about it, Dylan should have recoiled at the idea, but as she suspected, she was too far gone. Part of her felt like she did in front on Margot when she undressed. Fear filled her veins, followed by impatience, euphoria, and wonder. As lust fogged her thinking, she knew there was a chance for her to be bold. To find herself again.