by Leah Braemel
“I’m in,” she whispered, knowing Mark was listening in the van. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck, angling her head to catch the cool breeze rushing through the air-conditioning vent.
“You never told me how you got the security code,” she heard Mark say in the earpiece as she headed through the empty room toward the center hallway.
“I have my secrets,” she taunted. That weekend she’d bribed to call in sick so she could fill in had paid off—even if it meant she’d had to scrub toilets. The work hadn’t really been hard—the new owner had only furnished four rooms so far, so there’d not been much to clean.
A smile tugging at her lips, Jodi paused at the door to the office, ensuring it was empty. Moonlight streamed between the heavy curtains that flanked the French doors and across the floor in a rectangular pattern, slanting up the bookcases lining the walls. The red power light on the cordless phone reflected in the brass base of the banker’s lamp on the desk. Assured she was alone, she walked confidently toward the desk.
“The safe’s in the floor behind the desk,” Mark reminded her. “Figure you’ve got less than an hour to crack the safe, leave the envelope and get out before the next patrol cruises by.”
She rolled her eyes. Cruise was right—that’s all the minimum-wage cop wannabees currently providing security did for their visual inspection. Her van had been parked in the area for a week now and they hadn’t slowed down enough to read her license plate or check why she was there.
She pushed the leather office chair aside and knelt on the hardwood floor, inhaling a whiff of lemon furniture polish. The very same polish she’d applied on the weekend. Reaching beneath the desk, her fingers found the latch that would free the panel hiding the safe. Her breath left her with a whoosh when she heard the audible click.
“Got it!” she whispered, pumping her fist in the air. Now the real fun began.
Still on her knees, she reached down and swung open the square section of floor concealing the safe. A chuckle escaped her. She’d never bothered to tell Mark that during her stint as a replacement maid, she’d been assigned to dust this room. Or that she’d discovered the safe’s combination on the flip side of the leather blotter.
“Hey, Mark, start the timer—I’ll bet I can have this baby cracked in under three minutes.”
Mark’s low chuckle reverberated in her ear. “Two. Loser gets tied up and spanked.”
Jodi’s butt tightened. Spanking usually meant Mark was in the mood for ass play. Maybe she should deliberately take four minutes. No, she thought with wicked delight as she glanced at her latex covered fingers, it was time Mark got a taste of his own medicine.
“Then drop your pants, big boy, and show me your sweet ass, ’cause you’re going to get a whoopin’ tonight.”
Clenching her penlight between her teeth, she leaned over the dial of the old-fashioned safe. Then jumped when the egg started to vibrate deep inside her.
Sonuvabitch. She stopped herself from screeching. She’d completely forgotten the damned thing. Her nipples hardened into swollen buds rubbing against her cotton T-shirt while her pussy throbbed in time with the vibrations.
No way was she going to let Mark win this bet. Ignoring the vibrator as best she could, she carefully turned the dial clockwise to the first number. Heard the click as the mechanism released. One-and-a-half-turns counterclockwise. Another click. Clockwise again. Click. Grinning, she checked her watch.
“Mark, your ass is going to be sore tomorrow,” she whispered.
A quick tug on the handle opened the safe. Her penlight’s thin beam of light illuminated a thick rope of gold with a massive ruby pendant resting upon a black velvet-covered board. A set of dangly earrings that matched the pendant and several diamond-encrusted bracelets winked back at her. A fortune in easily fenced gems and the idiot had left the combination to the safe where anyone could find it.
Shaking her head at the owner’s stupidity, she pulled out the envelope. Then froze when the sliver of light from the French door lengthened, slid beneath the desk and over the safe.
She peered beneath the knee space under the desk. The moonlight outlined the shape of a dark figure shutting the doors.
“Under two minutes, Mark, I win,” she announced as she crawled from beneath the desk. She straightened and smiled, expecting Mark to flash that sexy smile of his. She was so ready to fuck him, to have him ram his cock deep into her.
But her smile froze when the intruder took a step into the room and the moonlight gleamed off his head. His shaved head.
Not Mark.
“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.”
Chapter Two
A sudden blaze of light blinded her. Halogen lights glared on the open safe, on the desk. On her.
On him.
A good four inches taller than Mark, the intruder must have weighed at least fifty pounds more, every ounce pure muscle. He looked like he’d stepped out of the Matrix in a dark silk shirt that outlined every bulging muscle in his massive shoulders. While his shaved head gleamed, a day’s worth of stubble shadowed his heavy jaw. Beneath thick dark brows and darker eyes, his nose had a slightly off-center look as if it had been broken several times. Leather pants clung like a second skin, accentuating the bulging package at the juncture of his legs. Everything about him screamed strength and power.
“If you’re fixin’ to tell me you’re doin’ some window-shoppin’, this store is closed.” He spoke in a slow southern drawl, nothing like Mark’s sexy accent.
Her heart rate skyrocketed to triple digits as adrenaline catapulted through her system; sweat slickened the inside of her gloves. Why hadn’t Mark warned her that someone was on the grounds?
“You’re trespassin’ on private property, sweet pea.” His deep voice resonated through her chest, its slow cadence drumming a prisoner to the gallows.
Confidence wrapped itself around him in a comfortable cloak. Something in the way he held himself told her not to let his casual pose deceive her. He looked like he could have played defensive end for the NFL and would relish the opportunity to tackle her.
Jodi stared at the inky darkness behind him, hoping he hadn’t brought backup. When no one else appeared, her heart rate decreased. Slightly.
“You the owner?” she asked, pleased that her voice didn’t betray her anxiety. Or the fact that her pussy was throbbing from the egg still vibrating deep inside her.
“If you belonged here, sweet pea, you’d know who the owner was.”
Did that mean he was? Or he wasn’t?
She’d checked the names of the cleaning staff personally but couldn’t remember anyone of his age or description. The property had been registered under a numbered corporation, and while Mark had met with the owner in person, he hadn’t mentioned the man—or woman’s name, Jodi amended to be fair.
Jodi lifted her chin, forced her voice to remain steady. “I’m with Celada Security. We’ve been approached about upgrading the security on this place. Part of the proposal included an agreement that we would breach the perimeter. So here I am—living proof of how pathetic the current system is.”
She pulled the envelope from her pocket and held it out, along with her identification. “Here, this’ll prove what I’m saying is true.”
Goliath plucked the envelope from her hand and tossed it on the desk. “Anyone could have written that letter, sweet pea. It don’t prove a damned thing.”
He reached into his pocket. Oh my God, he was armed! And she’d left her gun in the van. How could she have been so stupid?
Her mouth pulled a Sahara Desert as her gaze darted toward the door. It couldn’t be more than four feet away. She could make it through and be halfway down the hall while he was still rounding the desk. If she could find some way to stop him following her, she might have a better chance of escaping. She inched closer to the doorway, trying hard not to be obvious.
“Ah, now, don’t make me chase you. I may be big, but I’m fast.” Instead of
the knife or gun she was expecting, he pulled out a fat cigar and stuck it in his mouth, held a match to it. “And I guarantee I’ll enjoy catchin’ you.”
An icy lump settled into her stomach as she realized that she still hadn’t heard Mark respond. She eyed the door again, judging her chances, then glanced at the desk seeking a letter opener or something she could use as a weapon. Maybe a solid thump to his head with the brass banker’s lamp would slow him down.
“Relax, sweet pea, I’m not goin’ to hurt you.” Smoke wreathed his head as he drew on the cigar then carefully placed the cigar in the ashtray beside the lamp. “Much.”
Trying to anticipate what his next move might be, Jodi watched him like a mouse eyed a cat. A really hungry cat.
Before she had time to get away, he’d rounded the desk in a graceful move that belied his size. He crowded her against the wall, his body a furnace wrapped in leather and silk.
She craned her neck up to meet his gaze, and revised her approximation of his height. He had to be at least six foot five. But she’d been right about him being pure muscle.
“Dangerous business, breakin’ into private property. Even more dangerous when it’s mine.”
Mine? Jodi narrowed her eyes. He was the owner? So why didn’t he just acknowledge that he’d hired the firm to expose the estate’s weak spots? What was his game?
“You get a rush breakin’ into other people’s places, sweet pea? Thwarting their security?”
He grabbed her hand and held it flat against his groin. Against the enormous hard-on straining the buttoned fly. “Do you feel what capturing a trespasser does for me?”
His gaze flicked down her body as his grin widened. “You’re a little skinny for my tastes but I’ll bet you’re a real wildcat in bed. We’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight, we are. I can’t wait to bury my cock in your sweet pussy.” He dipped his head until his mouth was beside her ear and whispered, “I’ll bet you’re already dripping wet, aren’t you?”
She snatched her hand away and dragged in a breath, forcing air into her too-tight lungs as she memorized his features. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens, asshole. Now back off before I shove your dick down your throat.”
His lips twitching as if he wanted to laugh, he took a half step back, but not enough for her to sidle past him. “I’d rather shove it down yours.”
“Just read the letter. It’ll prove I’m who I say I am, and am doing what we were hired to do. Or if you don’t believe the letter is legit, call Mr. Rodriguez yourself.”
She rattled off Mark’s cell phone number while wondering why he still hadn’t responded over the headset.
When he unfolded the paper and started reading it, his eyebrows arched and his lips compressed into a controlled smirk.
“My Sexual Fantasies.” His eyes flickered up and he grinned while Jodi narrowed her eyes, trying to figure his game. “Sounds like an interesting letter your boss wrote, sweet pea.”
Just what she needed—a smart-ass.
“Just read the damned thing,” she ground out.
“I am reading.” He unfolded the paper again. “My Sexual Fantasies. One, to try anal sex. Two, I want to be fucked by Mark while tied up and blindfol—”
What the hell? Jodi snatched the paper from him with a gasp and stared in horror at the list she had jokingly made for Mark.
“This is a mistake,” she stammered. “It was supposed to be the letter Mark—I mean Mr. Rodriguez had written explaining exactly how we’d breached security and his recommendations to make the estate safer.”
He chuckled and looked over his shoulder to the French doors. “Is that what it was supposed to say, Mr. Rodriguez?”
Jodi followed his gaze. The knapsack at his feet, Mark leaned against the doorframe, thumbs tucked into the belt of his jeans that rode low over his hips.
Tension drained like a plug had been pulled, Jodi sagged against the wall. Until she realized Mark was not out of breath, nor was he treating the other man with caution. In fact, he was downright relaxed and smiling. She straightened, vowing vengeance for his screwup with the list. And for not letting her know he was all right. And for not warning her someone was about to walk in on her. Not to mention the vibrator still buzzing away deep inside, driving her insane.
“Will you please explain that I work for you, Mr. Rodriguez?” she gritted out, her hands curled into fists. “And will you please turn it off?”
“Sam?” Mark arched an eyebrow at her captor.
“I’d rather leave it on,” Sam grumbled, but he reached into his pocket and the vibrator immediately ceased.
“You had the…?” Jodi spluttered when he held the remote up for her to see. “But Mark had… Mark, what the hell is going on here?”
“Jodi Tyler, I’d like you to meet Sam Watson.”
Sam Watson? As in the owner of Hauberk Security and Mark’s college buddy? Jodi closed her mouth when she realized her jaw was hanging open. Was this some sort of joke?
“So is this really your place, or are you checking me out to make sure I meet your company’s qualifications?”
“Yup, place is all mine.” He smiled as he picked up the cigar, his gaze flicking over her again. “As for checking you out, there ain’t a man alive who could fail to admire your…assets.”
Annoyed at being held captive by the man who would soon be her new boss, she placed her hands flat on Sam’s chest and pushed. And failed to budge him at all.
“Since you own one of the biggest security firms on the east coast, you obviously don’t need Mark to upgrade your security—so why have me break in? Oh, and in case you haven’t heard, there’s a law about sexual harassment of employees. So you’d better have one damned good lawyer.”
Sam’s eyes widened; he quickly stepped back, letting Mark take his place.
“Relax, babe.” Mark rubbed her shoulders in a move meant to pacify her but she batted them away.
Jodi shoved the paper in Mark’s face. It was either that or kick him in the groin. “This list was supposed to be just between us. How could you humiliate me like this?”
Mark cleared his throat and cursed softly in Spanish. “I’m sorry, babe, I wanted to surprise you for your birthday—you know, so we can cross the rest of those items off your list. I thought it would be funny. Sort of an icebreaker. “
“Funny?” She thumped her fist into his shoulder. “You have a twisted sense of humor. Besides, what could possibly be on there that you’d need to show to a perfect stranger?”
Sam waved his cigar toward the paper that was now a crumpled ball in her fist. “You might wanna refresh your memory and read number six there, sweet pea. Ol’ Mark here’s asked me to help fulfill that particular fantasy.”
With a growing dread, she scanned the list, her eyes widening.
6. I’d like to have a ménage with Mark and another man that we could trust.
Chapter Three
A ménage? While she’d secretly fantasized about that particular scenario, she’d not realized she’d actually written it down, nor that Mark wouldn’t consult her on who the third person might be.
Wait a minute! This whole thing had been a setup? From the first time Mark mentioned the owner’s challenge to break through the current security, to how he’d manipulated the roster so she pulled the majority of the surveillance? And this morning, when she’d tried to finagle the evening off so they could spend her birthday together, he’d insisted she be the one in the van…that she be the one infiltrating the estate. It had all been a lie?
“So you’ve been planning this for…what? A month now?”
“Yup. Ever since you wrote that list.” Mark wore a smug, satisfied smile, like the proverbial cat who’d captured the canary—and still had yellow feathers clinging to his mouth. “Fooled you, didn’t I? Happy birthday, babe.”
Letting out a small screech, Jodi tore the list into pieces and flung them in Mark’s face. She ripped off her knit cap and clutched a hank of her still-sweaty h
air, holding it out at right angles. “So you made me spend twelve hours cooped up in a van until I smell like I spent all day in a swamp and thought that would put me in the mood for sex? And not just sex, but for fucking my future boss?”
“Told you you might want to rethink the idea of just springin’ it on her, ol’ buddy,” Sam murmured.
She continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, poking Mark in the chest with one finger. “Did you think I might not like to have a say in who is the third? Or that it might affect how Mr. Watson judges me in the future?”
“Two-way street, sweet pea. You don’t need to worry about me judgin’ you for your sexual preferences if you don’t judge me. An’ I told Mark I wasn’t gonna participate unless you were willin’.” Sam tamped the cigar out in the ashtray once more, his face a carefully blank mask. “Guess I got my answer. No harm, no foul.”
“Sam, wait,” Mark said, running a hand over his thick strip of hair. “Look, Jodi, maybe I should have let you in on it from the get-go, but if you remember when you wrote that list, I promised that I’d try to fulfill all your fantasies. That’s what I am trying to do.”
She attempted to resist him when he tugged her close, refusing to look at him. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her until she melted against him.
“Babe, I trust Sam more than I’d trust any other man with you.” He pulled back and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Or did you have someone else in mind?”
“No,” she sighed. “I can’t think of someone else.”
“Tell you what,” Sam said. “Why don’t you two take a couple minutes and discuss it without me around? Go on up to the master bedroom and use that whirlpool tub big enough for six, or take a shower or something while you make up your mind. You might remember it since you did such a good job cleaning it when you played maid on the weekend—Bianca.”
Jodi winced at Sam’s use of the fake name she’d used.
